THE Inhuman CARDINAL, OR, Innocence Betrayed.  
A NOVEL.  
Written By a Gentlewoman, for the Entertainment of the Sex.  
LONDON, Printed for John Harding, at the Bible and Anchor in Newport-street, and Richard Wilkin, at the King's-Head in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1696.   

TO HER Royal Highness THE PRINCESS AND, OF DENMARK.  
MADAM,  
GReat is my Confusion when I would approach; an humble Awe checks my Ambition; and I am afraid to lay so mean a Trifle at the Feet of Your Royal Highness. But as with Heaven, a devoted Heart atones for a worthless Offering; so Most Excellent Princess, let the fervent Zeal, which inclines me towards your Service, excuse this too too bold an Undertaking.  
You are a Princess whose Presence creates an Universal Joy and Veneration in all your pleased Beholders. We view in your Majestic Lineaments, the August Air of Royal Ancestors: Whilst with this becoming Majesty, something so agreeably affable is joined, that your humble Creatures find their Access both easy and delightful: And those who have the Honour and Happiness to attend your Royal Person, plainly discover those Moral and Princely Virtues, refined with sincere Christian Piety, which Beautify and Reign in your Heroic Soul: and the unequalled Character they give, raises the love of Virtue in the Breast of the most stupid.  
'Tis said Example goes before Precept; and that of all Examples we are fondest of those our Princes set before us. How incorrigible then are these polluted Times, when You, Illustrious Madam, stand a Pattern most Excellently Glorious?  
The Prayers of all good Men daily importune Heaven on your behalf, nor are their Prayers in vain; nor do the bounteous Powers barely behold such worth, without reward; Blessings crowd around, and leave (I hope) no wish unsatisfied.  
Blessed in the Royal Partner of your Bed, that Great Good Man; words that but seldom truly join; Blest yourself, and blessing all, in that Lovely Blooming Prince, the Duke of Gloucester; whose forward Youth Wings the breath of Fame; and were her Tongues innumerable, when she reports of him, some wonder must be left untold. Joy of the Present Age, and Darling hopes, on which the future one depends. Oh may he Inherit the Extracted Virtues of all our British Kings; the Courage of our Present Sovereign; but a Fortune peculiarly Great, peculiarly his own; Conspicuous, and far above whatever went before: that Succeeding Worlds, may to his Glorious Name, justly add the Epithet of Happy.  
I ought now to say something, in reference to the following Sheets; but my ravished Pen hath been entertained upon so sublime a Theme, that it disdains to descend; and my heart full of Rapture, that is, full of your Royal Highness, will only give me leave to endeavour the expressing, how much I am,  
Madam, Your Royal Highness' Devoted humble Servant, Mary Pix.   

THE Inhuman Cardinal, OR Innocence Betrayed.  
ALL that are conversant in History, must remember the unbecoming Sway Donna Olimpia held in the Court of Rome, during the Papacy of Innocent the Tenth. The Fiction of Herculeses changing  with his beloved Mistress, ought here to have been practised; for that Pope gave himself wholly up to Laziness and Effeminacy, whilst Olimpia governed both in Church and State.  
If any person wanted Ecclesiastical preferment, Donna Olimpia received their Presents and Address; if an Ambassador was earnest for dispatch, her Interest alone could obtain it. Thus she remained courted, adored by all; Caressing few, unless it were the Cardinals. Those she was very fond of making her Creatures, that her Power might rule in all their Councils.  
And amongst that Scarlet Fraternity, Antonio Barbarino was the Man she most affected. He was wicked, as her vilest Wishes; and cunning as her subtlest Thoughts, when they form Revenge; Revenge which was her darling Pleasure; Witness the Rage she, for years, maintained against her own Son, only because his Wife was great and beautiful.  
But to return to our matter: This Cardinal Antonio was something cold, and did not follow her Measures so exactly as she desired; much she would have done, to have obtained the absolute Ascendant over him; and Fortune, at last, became obliging to her Wish: She had observed the Cardinal, in some of his late Visits, to appear very sad and thoughtful; she often pressed him to know the Cause, whilst he for some time continued to evade her Importunity; at length, being alone with her, and she becoming again inquisitive, he ushering his Discourse with a Sigh, began thus.  
Madam, the fear that I shall stand wholly corrected, and condemned, by your severer Virtue, has thus long deterred me from disclosing my Tortures. I know, Madam, you have Designs which you would give the World to effect; prove but then indulgent to those dear guilty Wishes I am going to discover: and here I solemnly swear to assist you with my utmost power, in all your Commands, of what nature soever. This Promise was too kind, not to gain the like Assurance from Donna Olimpia; and the Cardinal proceeded.  
Ambition only fired my Youth, and led me on to Greatness; but now a gentler Flame hath filled my Heart, yet more tormenting. I am in Love, O Olimpia; raging mad with Love, to that degree possessed, that if I enjoy not the Object of these violent Desires, life itself will become a burden insupportable.  
Though Olimpia was declining in Age, and never any exact Beauty, yet so vain is Woman; that she began to hope for a declaration of Love; sets her Face in the best order; puts on affected Looks; turns her Eyes from Antonio's: and seems in great expectation. But he quickly undeceived her, by adding: It is the beautiful Melora, Daughter to the Marquis of Coure, now Ambassador from France. Fair, charming as an Angel; her Eyes shoot amorous Fire, yet are  with Modesty; and much I fear, no Temptation, though dressed with alluring Pleasure, or dazzling Wealth, will o'ercome her. ' The vicious, answered wicked Olimpia, yield of themselves; ●●or were it worth your care or mine, were she not virtuous. ' Leave this business, added she, to my conduct; and, provided your spoil not my Design with unseasonable Frugality; I'll engage to bring Melora to your Arms. The passionate Priest was transported, fell at her Feet, embraced her Knees, and promised her inestimable Treasures, if she made good her Word. She asked him, if Melora knew him: he assured her, No; for there had been a misunderstanding betwixt her Father and him; and he was the only Person of his Rank, that did not frequent the Ambassador's House, nor had ever seen her but at Church; where, added he, those lovely unheeding Eyes have never marked me with a fixed regard; the brighter Stars that now alone must rule my Fate. After other Discourses to the same purpose, the Cardinal took his leave, and that night sent Olimpia a Dressing-table covered with Plate, valued at eight Thousand Crowns; for he knew that Woman avaricious, and took the right way to hasten her Endeavours for his satisfaction. Soon after, this bribed Designer did the French Ambassador a signal piece of Service, in a business of importance; and when he would have made her a Present for that Favour: she refused it, saying, all she desired in return, was: That he would send his Daughter, the fair Melora, to see her; for though a Woman, that Lady's Face had so charmed her: she even longed to contract a Friendship with her. The good Marquis was transported to hear what an Honour was designed his dear loved Daughter; and delayed not sending her to wait upon Olimpia, who caressed her at an unusual rate; discovered all her little insinuating Arts of Fondness, whilst the deluded Maid was, beyond expression, pleased to hear her talk so kindly; to see all her rich Cabinets, and those Millions of Curiosities she was Mistress of. Many pretty Presents, (at the first Visit) Olimpia forced Melora to accept; nor would she part with her without a firm Promise of her coming every day to see her; which this innocent Virgin most willingly agreed to, and performed. Nothing now was more talked of, or envied amongst the Ladies, than this new Friendship: they appeared at every public place together; and Melora having a Garb suitable to that Greatness, quickly added to the number of her Adorers: but that was the only Restriction Olimpia gave her, not to entertain the Addresses of any, still hinting at some wonderful Design she had for her; and always saying to her, That Heaven had sure ordained that lovely Face, that august Mien, for Sovereignty. Nor could Olimpia (as much as she was inclined to it) flatter, in commending her, for she was really amiable to a Miracle.  
She was of stature tall, shaped beyond the Art of a Description, and moved with a Majestic Air. Her Eyes were black and shining; and awed the trembling Lover from gazing long. Her Hair seemed to vie with them for Charms and Lustre; then her Skin was of that amazing whiteness, 'twould raise emotions in the most retired Recluse. In fine, her Hands, Arms, and every agreeable Lineament of that exact Frame, her Body, forced from the most envious of her own Sex, the Appellation of a perfect Beauty. Nor did the bounteous Powers stop with these Graces; but gave also a Mind composed of Harmony: wise, as experienced Age; witty, as Youth, inspired with Poetry: and innocent, as harmless Childhood.  
Oh Melora! after-Ages shall with pity read, even to the end of Time, that such an Angel should be given to the Guardianship of a Devil; for so cursed Olimpia proved.  
Olimpia used a most engaging way to all Persons, where her Interest was concerned; and though to the indifferent World, and those beneath her, she seemed haughty, and full of pride; yet her inward Conversation was affable, and to a wonder pleasing; the highest Charms of which she had even industriously bestowed upon Melora; and so perfectly was that young Creature endeared to her, that she would as soon have died, and as willingly, as disobliged her.  
The impatient Cardinal complained, and told Olimpia, she moved not half so fast as his Desires. But this cunning Artificer resolved to lay a sure Foundation before she began so difficult a work. And the first step towards it, was the desiring Melora to let a famous Florentine Painter take her Picture in Miniature; which was granted, as soon as asked. The Piece was tightly done, and presented to Olimpia. All seemed now to favour her Designs; and she only wanted an obliging Opportunity to introduce her well-laid Story to Melora. Which thus happened: Olimpia coming from the Pope's Palace, called for her dear Companion (as she termed Melora) who was at her Father's House, entertaining Donna Brandina, a Roman Lady of Quality; but of a fantastic Humour: the chief Business of her Life, being to find out all the loving Affairs amongst the great Ones, either in Court or City. Nay, so eager was she at this insignificant Curiosity, that she kept a Correspondency even with Chambermaids. After Olimpia came in, Brandina began again to tell over all the impertinent amorous Adventures she had lately heard; but perceiving them not much delighted with her foolish Relations: she, at length, took her leave, to the wished desire of the two friendly Ladies, who longed to enjoy themselves privately. For the accomplishment of which Donna Olimpia proposed taking the Air a few miles out of Town: Melora being her perfect Devotee, with cheerfulness agreed. As soon as their Coach was disengaged from the Hurry of Rome, that sweet French Woman, looking upon Olimpia with a Smile: Madam, said she, Donna Brandina came to me to day with important News; and hath told me a Story, which hath extremely diverted me. What is't, for Heaven's sake, answered Olimpia, that talkative Creature could say to please thee, my Dear? It seems, replied the fair one, your Highness, out of your immense Goodness, setting a value upon the Trifle you commanded (my Picture) has ordered a Lapidary to set it in Diamonds; which this inquisitive Lady finding out, concludes a piece of Gallantry done by some Lover; and has placed me amongst her Virgins, that are concerned in Heroic Amours, as yet to her undiscovered. For (continued Melora laughing) she keeps a daily Journal of all the Intrigues that pass, and is now almost distracted to know my humble Servant.  
It is strange, said Olimpia, that empty Creature should guests at hidden Truths; for since Chance hath broke the Ice, I will own to thee, my dearest Girl, 'tis an illustrious Lover, is giving that deserved Ornament to thy charming Picture. ' How, Madam, said Melora! nay, if you resolve to rally your Servant, I must remain dumb, and only answer with confusion and Blushes.  
No, replied Olimpia, in a grave Tone, this is as true as you are fair and good; there is a Person in the World is in Love with you. In Love with you! Oh weak Expression! added she vehemently; is dying for you; suffers all the violent pangs, Poetry e'er feigned, or man e'er felt.  
His Quality is Supreme; yet his Ambition terminates in being your Slave; then be not angry that I have given him your Picture: For though you are bright as an Angel, and Mistress of unequalled Charms; yet he deserves, my Fairest, even you, ended Olimpia, embracing her. Whatsoever is acted by my Divinest Patroness, said Melora, bowing low, by me, with strictest Obedience and highest Pleasure shall be observed; and when you, my ever honoured Friend, grow weary of my faithful Heart: dispose of it as you please, your Commands must needs be easy. ' Be assured, Charmer (answered this designing Lady) I will never part with that inestimable Jewel, but upon Terms that shall wholly redound to your Advantage.  
She paused upon this, and left the Subject for Melora to consider some few days without farther explaining herself. Then seeming in a very pleasant Humour, she takes Melora into her Cabinet, and asked her smiling, if since their last private Conference, she had not dreamed of an accomplished Cavalier sighing at her Feet, and dying for her Love? My Thoughts, replied that modest Maid, so seldom frame an Idea of Mankind, that it is almost impossible that they should disturb my Dreams.  
But methinks, said Olimpia, one recommended by me, should make a little deeper impression on that frigid Heart. of yours. ' Behold here, added she, (taking out a gold Box, and opening it) your Picture which with much ado I obtained from the Amorous Prince for an hour or two. Melora took it in her hand, and viewed it with wonder; nor could she choose; for it was a dazzling Object, being set Oval fashion in large Diamonds: Round the fairest, which was uppermost, these words were engraven;  Dim, to the Lustre of her Eyes. 
Now, Madam, cried Melora eagerly, you must forgive my Curiosity, and permit me, like my Sex, to be wondrous inquisitive: For the Title of Prince, which you have given this unknown, and the brightness of these Jewels, strike me into amazement; I cannot believe your Goodness would abuse my Credulity with fictitious Stories; nor can I have Pride enough to imagine a Prince my Lover. ' What I told you before, I solemnly confirm, says Olimpia, he is not only your Lover, but Slave; yet over part of the World an Absolute Sovereign: All this is truth; but 'tis a Truth of such a consequence, that I must lay upon you wonderful Injunctions  I venture to unravel it, your faithful Breast must lock this Secret up as safe as if my Life depended upon disclosing it; or if there is any thing you hold dearer, by that I conjure you, let not your own Father now the least Circumstance of this Discovery; and if you dare trust me wholly with the Management of your Fortune, which 'twould break my Heart to doubt; in earnest you shall suddenly appear the most glorious, as well as the most beautiful Princess in Europe.  
So perfectly did Melora confide in Olimpia, that she made no scruple to rely upon her Conduct, and promised even with Imprecations, a most sincere and exact Secrecy, to whatsoever she would relate.  
Olimpia gave order not to be disturbed, and began thus: You must arm yourself with Patience to hear a Story, that will be of a long continuance before it points at you. Melora, by a graceful bow, and continuing silent, let Olimpia know her Expectation, and Attention; when that cruel Princess, seeming a while to recollect herself, dressed up a true Story in the following words.  

The History of Alphonsus and Cordelia.  
Otho Duke of Ferrara and Modena had an only Son named Alphonsus, who was above what I am able to describe; all the World acknowledging him accomplished to the highest Degree. His Father was yet lusty, and stirring in State-affairs, which gave Alphonsus' liberty to follow many youthful Adventures.  
Amongst the rest, he proposed to a Favourite of his, called Don Castro (the beginning of a glorious Summer) taking a Ramble in the adjacent Countries under borrowed Names: the Prince was very young and very brisk, when this was mentioned, and his Companion being suitable for years and Temper, they soon agreed, and put their Design into Action. Alphonsus' calling himself Don Pedro; and Castro, Philippo. The morning they began their Frolic, Alphonsus left a Letter upon his Table for his Father, the Contents of which, only wished him long life, health, and happiness, begging his Pardon for a youthful Excursion; which should tend neither to his own, nor any person's prejudice, etc.  
The Court was at first mightily alarmed; but Otho recollecting the Humours of his own Youth, was at length content to hope this was only an innocent Folly.  
These noble Rovers had passed some weeks, and were got a great distance from Ferrara, before any extraordinary Occurrence happened to them. They had visited some Cities; but were now retired into the Country, where Don Pedro (for by that Name you must understand the Prince) began to complain to his Friend of the dulness of their Ramble, and inveigh against the fair Sex, for their Civility in sparing them their Hearts and Liberty. It was such melancholy Reflections as these, replied Philippo, caused me, at break of day, to fetch a pensive Walk some distance from hence, where I met with a small Intrigue that gave me a proportionable Diversion. ' Oh Churl, cried out Don Pedro, how could you conceal it one moment; Be not so impatient, answers the other; for I think it scarce worth your hearing: however thus it was, I entered a large Forest, and after I had walked some time, listening only to the Harmony of the Birds, and viewing the Verdure of those pleasant Shades, I saw through the Trees, walking a swift pace, a Cavalier well dressed. After I had a while observed him, I fancied by his haste, and the time of the day, he was upon some private Design; therefore not to interrupt him, I left the path that led me after him, and wandered into another. But Fortune resolved that should not be my last interview; for in a quarter of an hour's space, I was come to a high Wall where I perceved my Spark some yards from me, waiting in a disconsolate posture, and seeming to expect something from thence. I should he had not discovered me; and my curiosity was such, I could not forbear observing the Event. To that end I concealed myself behind a Shrub, where I could with ease view what passed. The Gentleman began to grow very impatient, as I perceived by his Gestures: sometimes he whistled, which I guessed to be the sign; then walked with a perturbed pace. At length, quite tired, he cried out: Perfidious Creature! false as thou art foolish! to squander away thy Patrimony only to satisfy thy cursed curiosity! After he had raved thus, and vexed himself above an hour: away he walks, still cursing his unauspicious Stars, and those greater Plagues, deceitful Women. I laughed, and huged myself, for being free from all the Snares of that insinuating Sex. Entertained with these pleasing Thoughts I hastened homewards; but e'er I was got half way, a Fancy seized my Noddle to return back, and visit the aforementioned Wall again, making such a sign as I had already heard. The Whim pleased me; and methought I was assured, I should finish the Adventure which this too hasty Gallant had left. Accordingly I turned my steps, and having reached the place, I had no sooner whistled, but my expectation was answered; for over the Wall came a Key tied to this Billet, which he gave to the Prince who read these words.  
The LETTER.  
THE sight this Key procures you, I doubt not, will amply recompense your Bounty and long Waiting; ●ome before day, and creep close along ●he thick Arbours; if through any sinister accident, you should be discovered: rather say, you scaled the Walls, or dropped from the Clouds, than own a Correspondency with  
Your humble Servant Lusetta.  
There was a Postscript to this effect: I Suppose you have been so long viewing the Wall, that I need not in form you the little door, whereof this 〈◊〉 the Key, is on the West side.  
Well, said Don Pedro smiling, and what Advantage do you intent to reap by this pretty Mistake? ' Truly, answered Philippo, I hearty wish the Gentleman, it belongs to had it; for I have no mind to hazard my Life in our Italian Families to see novel Sights. ' Nay, if yo● are so indifferent, replied the Prince you shall quit your Right in this Adventure to me; for I am confident there is a fair Lady in the Case, and am resolved, if you desist, to see her.  
In vain Philippo used a thousand Arguments, and talked till the Prince commanded his silence. He was obstinate, nor could a fond Bridegroom long more for the night's approach, than this rash Noble Youth did for the morning. As soon as ever the first streaks of day appeared, he gins his Walk. Poor Philippo parts with much reluctancy and fear, resolving to follow him, and watch thereabouts, till his Return. Don Pedro carefully observed the Directions he had forced from his Friend, whom he would not suffer to go with him; his Fate seeming to whisper the Prize he was to gain, would admit no Sharers. When he had found the place, he softly unlocks the door, which he perceived was left unbored on purpose, and enters a lovely place, beholding both to Art and Nature for its beauty. He takes the first close Walk, which brought him to the pleasantest Grotto, your Fancy can possibly represent. It was exactly four square; and in every corner the knots of Trees were thick, mingling their Boughs over delicate Marble Seats, whose backs were painted with several Histories. Long Walks, with levy Screens, that shut out the Sun's fierce Beams, conducted you from every of these delightful Seats to the other. In the midst was a large space adorned with a curious Fountain; that which made this Fountain so admirable, was the Statue of Venus: at the head of it there was the Goddess figured in Marble, with Adonis slain at her Feet, whilst from her Eyes streams incessantly ran down, bathed the loved Youth, and seemed to fill the vast Cistern underneath, which with an agreeable murmur still received them. Beyond all this was an exquisite Garden enamelled with choicest Flowers and Fruits.  
The Prince had entertained himself a considerable time in this Charming place, and began to fear the Sight the Letter promised, was only these Rarities; though, to comfort him, he could at a great distance espy a fair well built House; and hoped a fairer issue from it. Nor was he disappointed; for e'er he had waited much longer, he through the Trees, discovers a Woman bringing four crimson Velvet Cushions, which she lays, two upon the ground, and two upon one of the Marble Seats. After she was gone, our Hero seeks out a place, as near this Arbour as he could that would conceal him. There was no possibility of looking into it, without being seen; so that he is forced to go behind, and be a Hearer only of what the Persons would say, that were to possess those Seats.  
He had scarce time to fix himself before he heard the rustling of Silks, and sweet small Voices: which made him conclude his Neighbours, Ladies. After general Discourses, not material, one of them said: I cannot but wonder, my charming Cousin, that the wise Sulpitia should take delight to bury so much Beauty as yours in obscurity, and confine your Youth to these melancholy Shades; when but appearing at Court with you, would soon raise your ancient Noble Family to its pristine Splendour. For I am convinced no Prince, of what Rank soever, could look upon so lovely a Creature, without laying his Heart and Crown at her Feet. ' Fie, Cousin, said the other, with a charming Voice, I must needs chide you for your flattery, and condemn your blaming my Mother's conduct. You are sensible, the riotous living of some of my Ancestors has so impaired our Fortunes, that this Seat and a small Revenue, is all remains. In this depraved Age, without Gold, what can I expect by this little stock of Beauty, which you talk so much of but vicious Adorers? Would you have my Mother then expose me to Courts? The thought shocks my Virgin Soul, and makes me start when no danger's near. Oh! rather, let Cordelia's Name pass obscurely to the Grave, forgotten, than be remembered, and Dishonour affixed to it.  
A noble Resolution, thought our Listener, who now longed to see her Face. Some time after, they risen to walk, the Prince then crept near as possible, and putting the leaves aside, beheld the brightest Beauty upon Earth. He stood , and if the Ladies had looked that way, with half his Attention, they must have discovered him. Cordelia was dressed in a Gown of green Damask; the Sleeves were becomingly tucked up to her Shoulders; and trimmed round with white and red Knots, like Roses. Her shining Hair, in careless Curls, partly covered her lovely Neck; the rest exactly puffed: adorned with many pretty Ribbons, and some Jewels.  
I have described her Garb (said Olimpia smiling, and pointing to a large Looking-glass that hung in the Closet) but you must look in yonder Mirror to see her Person. Melora blushed, and Olimpia went on. The Prince, at this moment, banished from his Breast the Idea of all the Court-Beauties he had ever seen, and gazed on this Masterpiece of Nature so long, till he had imprinted Cordelia's Image too deep for time ever to deface. Whilst the Ladies, far from guessing at an Observer, finished their Walk, and went in, leaving Alphonsus like one who had seen a Vision, all surprised. When he began to think, he summons his rambling Humour to his aid, and the improbability of obtaining his desires. This, and much more, he thought, but all in vain; her Shape, her Mien, her charming Face; then her noble Mind surpassing all, secured him her Slave for ever. He resolved a thousand Projects in his working Brain, which way to obtain access to her. Sometimes he tormented himself, because he had not spoke to her when she was there; now pleased with the hopes she would return. In these restless Cogitations he spent most part of the day. As the Evening began to approach, Don Castro who had often visited the outside of the Wall, was in a great Consternation; he feared some mischief had befallen the Prince; and knew not what Method to take to be satisfied. At last not being able to remain longer in suspense of his safety, he went boldly to the Front of the House, and knocked at the Gate: the Porter came, and when he had opened it, says Don Castro; Pray, Friend, what is become of a Gentleman that came this morning into your Garden? If you have done mischief to him, all your Lives, even to the highest of your Family, must answer it.  
The Fellow all amazed, cried out; I suppose, Sir, you are either mad, or have mistake the House; for we have no Gentlemen ever come within these Walls, since my Honoured Lord is gone to Heaven (at the mention of whom, the Lout began to make a Face, as though Tears would follow). Don Castro, whose Fears were augmented by this Fellow's, as he thought, pretended ignorance: charged him in a furious Tone, to be his Conductor to his Friend, or he would send him to a place just contrary to that he said his Master was in. At this Noise the other Servants came about them. One discreeter than the rest, ran and acquainted Sulpitia with this strange story. Sulpitia, whose Daughter was the dearest Jewel she had on Earth, harkened to it with an emotion of Spirit, and desired the Gentleman might be brought to her. When Castro came, he told the whole matter, just as I have before related, as much as possible, excusing the Curiosity of his youthful Friend. Lusetta was instantly called, who when she had heard her Accusation, trembling confessed, That she was seduced by a Kinswoman for a Sum of Money, to let one Don Ferado see the beautiful Cordelia: Sulpitia only bid her retire, deferring her punishment to another time, and hastened into the Garden.  
Now whilst this had been acting in the House, the Ladies who were gone to take their evening Walk, were not free from their surprise; for Alphonsus seeing them return, resolved to appear and say, what his fierce Love should dictate. Accordingly he walked towards them, Cordelia lifting up her Eyes at the noise he made in walking, and seeing so brave a Cavalier in that prohibited place, shrieked aloud, and would have fled: but he putting one Knee to the Ground, took hold of her Garment, viewing her with a piercing Air: Divinest Creature, said he, Heaven e'er made, or Man e'er worshipped! Fly not; your Guardian Angel as soon will hurt you as your kneeling Slave. Fate, prodigious Fate, brought me hither, and now a greater Power ties me at your Feet for ever.  
As he would have proceeded, they heard people talking, and Cordelia saw Sulpitia just by her: Oh Heavens, cried that lovely Maid, my Mother will think me culpable, and that with consent I have entertained Discourse with this Intruder. Alphonsus' rose astonished to see his Friend there, and turning his Eyes with anger upon him, was about to speak, when Sulpitia interrupted him, in saying: Whatever your Designs were, this Gentleman (pointing to Castro) hath told such a plausible story, that I am content to dismiss you without farther Examination, provided you instantly retire, and trouble our Repose no more.  
Though you were a Goddess, answered Alphonsus, as being Mother to this Lady, I esteemm you little less (bowing to Cordelia) I would not stir till this bright Fair commanded; let her but speak; let her but say my Presence is an Offence, and I'll fly fast as I would do, if Honour called; swift, as Cowards fly, when Death pursues, else I am rooted here. Cordelia blushed; but the curious might perceive it was not with anger. Her Mother bid her command him thence, and she obeyed; yet not quite so readily as was expected. He respectfully took his leave, told Cordelia, with his Eyes that he had left his Heart; turned back, and seemed to wish she would use it kindly.  
Oh, Castro, said the Prince, when they were disengaged, and walking homewards, Thou hast undone me. Thy officious Love hath proved my ruin; robbed me of the only happy moments my life will ever know: now I must wander o'er the World the veriest Wretch that eye of time e'er saw, whilst this bright Image I have thus transitorily viewed, wracks my captivated Heart, and takes repose for ever from my Soul.  
I hope, says Castro, this Romantic speech is only to show your Highness' Parts, and amuse me; for certainly no Idea, how beautiful soever, can ruffle the calmness of your Royal Temper. ' Dull Creature, replied the Prince, couldst thou behold the Miracle, and after that remain so stupid, to believe I am in Jest? No, I swear it is unalterably fixed by Fate. I must neglect Interest, Ambition, Glory, and all the noisy Pomp the World affords, since now the study and business of my life is only to obtain the adored Cordelia. Castro seeing him in this Rapture, thought 'twas to no purpose to interrupt him; and desired to hear the story of the day, which the Prince related, and concluding with new Protestations of his endless Love, they went to their Lodgings. But no Rest had the amorous Alphonsus, plainly telling his Friend, if he did not contrive some means, that he might see her again, he must expect to see him dead. Castro at last began to believe it; for he scarce eat or slept, nor ever seemed pleased, but when he was talking of Cordelia. In vain did his faithful Servant remonstrate the necessity of returning to Court: nay, he could not mention it without putting the Prince in a passion; who solemnly vowed he would never see that, or his Father more, till he had again blest his longing Eyes with the sight of the beloved charming Cordelia. When Castro saw all Arguments, all Endeavours to reduce his Reason, fruitless: he thought the only Expedient must be, to procure this much desired Happiness; and in order to it, made inquiry very strictly about the Village, what Persons resorted to Sulpitia's House. But could hear of none, except a Friar who was a constant Guest there. He then examined into the Temper of that Holy man; heard it was jolly, free from care; that he lived the life of Sense himself, how severe soever his Doctrine was; though before Sulpitia he carried himself with a becoming Gravity.  
This Man Castro resolves to get acquainted with; and understood the way was easy, only two or three good Treats, and he was yours for ever: he soon effects his first design; grows wondrous intimate with the Friar, his only Favourite; and taking his opportunity, cunningly interweaves his Discourse with many particular Questions: amongst the rest, becoming inquisitive about Sulpitia's Family, ask what her Resolutions were, concerning her beauteous Daughter the fair Cordelia; At which the Friar blest himself, wondering how he had so much as learned that Lady's name; in such secure Retirement her Mother kept her; nay even he, whose Tongue sometimes run of all things, seldom mentioned them. However this was too dear a Friend to be denied any satisfaction his Knowledge would afford; and he immediately, at large, acquaints Castro, how nicely virtuous; and withal, how high Sulpitia's Temper was; that she rather chose to keep the unimitable Maid immured in the most secret privacy, than marry her below her Birth, though equal to her scanty Fortunes. Next that, she carefully avoided Courts and public Places, fearing the censorious World, which always fixes its fascinating Eyes on the most lovely Faces.  
This Information Castro communicates to the Prince; yet both their industry could imagine no advantage by it. At these difficulties Alphonsus abandons himself to Despair; threatens to be rid of life, since no fairer Prospect was in view to ease his Heart of Love's tormenting Fires. The young compassionate Lord, distracted with his Master's griefs, proposed the friar's making the motion of a Marriage, under the borrowed Name of Don Pedro. But the Heroic Prince declined that Offer; resolving first to endeavour the engaging Cordelia's Heart, and not force the gentle Maid to Bonds, she might think uneasy. He told Castro he discovered small encouragement from his Acquaintance with the Friar; unless his Interest could prevail so far, as to engage the sociable Gown-man to introduce him in some Disguise into the Family: then he might hope to sound Cordelia's Inclinations, and also tell his own, in Terms moving enough to touch her. Castro promised to undertake it, though he feared the Task would prove hard to accomplish. In order to this Design, he desires privacy with that Friar, and in the first place genteely forces a considerable Sum of Gold upon him, beginning his Discourse with the Merit, Riches, and an invented Title of Quality for his Friend; adding his desperate Condition assures him, unless he inclines to pity, and assist, Death must certainly be the Catastrophe of his Misery. The Friar considered all these Reasons, and chief the Present; yet shruged, and said, 'Twas difficult, 'twas dangerously difficult, desiring time for his Answer; which Castro allowed.  
When they met next, the Priest tells him, there was but one possibility of obtaining the Freedom of the House, and that did neither agree with the good Man's Conscience, nor was consistent with his Friend's safety. Castro starts at this; however was eager to know the dangerous Contrivance. You must understand then (thee obliging Friar goes on) I have often mentioned, at Sulpitia's, that I expected a Relation of the Dominican Order very suddenly. Now if Don Pedro could personate him, which is Death by the Law, if discovered, he may have admittance with me as often as I please; and I think it is impossible, they, having had so short an Interview, as you speak of, can ever remember him in the disguise of a Hood. Castro agreed to that; but could give no further Answer, till he had acquainted the Prince, who seems to swallow his words, and with swiftest haste returns with him to the Friar: gives the Priest more Gold to mollify his Scruple of Conscience: and instantly prepares for his Disguise.  
In my Opinion (said Melora, interrupting Olimpia) a religious Habit is both unhandsome and unfit to carry on an amorous Intrigue. It is so, my pious Maid (answers that Dissembler) and, for aught I know, the many Troubles that are inflicted on their Posterity, may be punishments for this first mockery of the Divinity.  
However the Design succeeded to their Wish; for Don Pedro was with the Friar, received free from all suspicion, and enjoyed often the agreeable Conversation of the amiable Cordelia. Their Discourse was of various Subjects; he never having had opportunity to speak to her alone. All Occasions he watches, which may in the least advance his desires: and Love being mentioned by chance, our disguised Prince falls into a Rapture, calling it, if a virtuous Flame, the highest Perfection humane Nature is capable of; a resemblance of Heaven; adding a thousand Fineries on that delightful Theme.  
You always speak with much Rhetoric (says the fair Cordelia smiling) but on this Subject seem inspired, and I should guests, did not your Habit contradict it, Love has been no Stranger to your Heart; 'tis so familiar on your Tongue. He only fetched a deep sigh, and stole an amorous Glance towards her; which she not observing, went on. Pray, since you understand this passion so well, oblige me with a description of it; tell me in what manner people are, when possessed with the Frenzy: for the grave and wise give it no better Title.  
The Task you enjoin (Madam) said the Prince, is none of the easiest; for divers ineffectually, tho' they felt its Torments, have essayed. I have the greatest Reason then to fear falling amongst that number, being the most incompetent. However I will venture, rather than disobey your Commands.  
It is an Inclination, which being throughly fixed in the Heart, gets predominant over all others. 'Tis the whole Employment of our Thoughts; for the passionate Lover has not one intervening moment; his breast is for ever filled with the beloved Idea. If they are asunder, a violent desire is joined to this Inclination to be with the charming Object. These eager Wishes render nights and days insupportable. If they are together, a trembling Fear, lest any word or action should displease is ever present. Then too often Jealousy steps in. Thus absent or present, still in fears. Such uneasiness attends the most happy Lovers. But what Wrecks, what Tortures unexpressible seize the Wretch who loves, and yet despairs! Who dotes, yet has no room for hope. Cordelia sighed, and cried, Alas! that's sad indeed.  
Why, Madam, said the Prince, hastily; I hope such Misery hath no relation to your softer hours; ' Not much, she answered, with a Blush that increased our Lover's fears to distraction. He was eager to pursue the Discourse, though it might discover what he most dreaded; but she prevented him, by going to the Company.  
His Resentment and Grief was too great not to be perceived; therefore he took his leave somewhat abruptly; and when he had shifted his Difguise (which he always did at the Fryar's) he hastens to his dear Confident Castro, immediately tells him his Misfortune, how Cordelia was prepossessed, had given that inestimable Jewel her Heart to a Rival, a Rival beloved: there was the wound! This obliging Friend said all that might assuage his Sorrows; yet nothing could allay them: he passed that night in terrible Inquietudes, goes the next day, without resolving any thing, to Sulpitia's: his inward vexations had made a visible alteration in his Countenance, and he appeared with an Air of melancholy disorder. Cordelia, who was allowed but little Conversation, finding the Prince very ingenious, took great delight in it. She immediately observed this alteration, and asked him the occasion. Herein, Madam, said he with a Sigh, forgive the forfeiture of my devoir, and permit me to disobey you. ' I will, replied Cordelia pleasantly, provided you quickly reassume your good Humour, and thereby give me cause to think, that this fit of Dulness proceeds from some slight Affliction of small moment. ' Of far less moment is my Life, returned the Prince passionately, observing none near them, nor, if my fears be true, can Time obliterate these Sentiments of woe, though it were possible that I were forced to live ten Thousand years. Since nothing can mitigate your sorrows, replied that Charmer, the best Wish your Friends can make is, your fears may prove false. Alphonsus had neither courage nor opportunity to say more; for the Friar and Aminda came up to them. Aminda was of a facetious humour; Cordelia's Relation left to Sulpitia's care; The same Lady that was in the Garden, when the Prince first saw the lovely Idol of his fond Desires. Aminda briskly challenges the Friar, and bid him maintain his Opinion, if he could. What novel Dispute is it, for Heaven's sake, cries Cordelia, you two are engaged in? ' I aver, answers her Cousin, that no where but in Romances, Persons fall in Love at the first sight; and only Conversation and a long Acquaintance can produce a violent Affection. ' I grant you, replies the Friar, that Love increases, and grows to a height by continual Conversation; but still I say, a beautiful Idea seen once, may make an impression either in Man or Woman, sufficient to take away their Repose. ' Ay, take their Hearts away also, to my knowledge, said the Prince earnestly. The Ladies both laughed at that; and Cordelia told Aminda, she must now acquiesce, since the Gentleman declared against her Argument, upon his own knowledge.  
The Friar hastened the Prince to take his leave, seeming impatient to talk with him. When they were walking homewards, his Introducer told him, that the time he had limited for his Kinsman's stay, was almost expired; and asked what progress he had made with this desired Freedom, which his Industry had procured? Alas! said the Prince sighing, Love hath made a far greater progress in my Heart, than I in my Designs. Adding his Reasons, to believe Cordelia was already in Love with another, which was a Thought oppressed him more than he could express. I believe you are mistaken, replied the Friar; for I have this day heard from Aminda the whole story of the Garden-Rencounter. She tells me her beauteous Cousin hath often sighed since, and mentioned the Cavalier, she there saw, with advantageous commendations. This Discourse occasioned the beginning of that Dispute you heard part of, of loving at first sight.  
No News ever surprised, and pleased Alphonsus like this Kind hope, which, like its contrary, despair, is a Lover's attendant; began now to give him great assurances. He embraced, caressed, and bounteously rewards the Friar; then flies to communicate his Joys to his Friend. When Castro had heard him out, and discovered there would be no great obstructions to a Marriage: he began to consider the weight of the Concern, and take the freedom his friendship allowed to tell the Prince, that though, when he saw him so passionate, that his life seemed to be at stake, he had foolishly enough talked of a Marriage; yet now, in cooler thoughts, reflecting upon Otho's Temper, who was ambitious beyond measure: it must needs involve him in endless troubles. Besides, his long absence from Court would give nourishment to such Factions, whose growth might entangle him, past his best skill to disengage himself. But Alphonsus' heart was too deeply prepossessed by Love, for such saving Counsel to enter; and if the loss of one must be ventured, the Dukedom would be in danger of running the hazard before Cordelia. However to soothe his Favourite, he alleged some State-Reasons for his absence, minding him of his Father's jealous Nature, who abhorred his Subjects should make their Court to his Son, whilst himself was so well able to wield the Reins of Government.  
This you know (went the Prince on) broke the heart of my elder Brother, whose Actions still our Royal Parent frowned on, because the people admired them too much. Then it follows; whilst I am absent from Otho, I am nearer in his Affection; Therefore, dear Friend, says the Prince, embracing him tenderly, assist me to obtain my Mistress; and I will return time enough to my Father. Princes easily persuade, though their Reasons are weak; because all are willing to oblige them.  
He found it hard to speak alone with Cordelia, so that he resolves to write, and get the Friar to deliver it. The way was easy to purchase his consent; Gold and noble Entertainments did all things with him. After a thousand alterations, Alphonsus, under the borrowed Name of Pedro, sent these words.  
To the Charming Cordelia.  
O Love! plead my Cause, and tell the Charming cruel Fair, she must forgive the Effects of the most violent Passion Mortal ever felt! If I have took a Disguise, which becomes me not, adored Cordelia, impute it to Love's boundless force; and wonder only at the Influence of your Eyes; that with their first Glances, could wound so sure, as to fix me your Slave for ever. The same person who beheld you in the Garden, longed to gaze nearer at that resplendent Light; and now, like the Moth, my liberty is lost, to fly. Since than my lovely Captivator, you have laid me in such fast Fetters, make them easy with your Smiles; lest your Rigour destroy one, who only lives to approve himself the  
Faithfullest of your Servants, Pedro.  
The Friar takes charge of it; and as soon as he comes to Sulpitia: Cordelia asked him, if his Kinsman was returned to the Monastery? He answered her only with a sign to speak with her unobserved: she understanding what he meant, goes to a bay Window, and beckoned to him to follow her, examining what he had to say. That Kinsman is not the Person you take him for, nor indeed any Kin to me, gins the Friar, though in you he reposes a mighty Trust, when he ventures his Life in your hands. 'Tis true, he has prevailed with me, to connive at things which neither aught to have been done; nor, when done, revealed; as I suppose this Paper will inform you, giving her the Letter. She paused at first, and was about not to receive it, till considering her Ghostly Father was the Deliverer: she condescended, and with an amazing Look retired into her Closet to peruse it. When she came back, she told the Friar, with a composed Countenance, he was culpable in a high degree, and that his guilt transcended the Genleman's; for the severest part of the World sometimes winks at youthful Extravagance: but that He, whose business it ought to have been to deter men from folly, should encourage them in it, was unpardonable. Then she urged his Infidelity, in so horribly betraying that great Trust her Mother reposed in him.  
When the poor Priest had patiently heard his Charge; for his Excuse he alleged the danger the Cavalier was in, of making some desperate Attempt upon his Life; how assured he was of the Honour of his Intentions, and the sincerity of his Affection. Then he fell to extolling the Nobleness of his Temper, the sweetness of his Nature; not forgetting the greatness of his Estate: and in conclusion, pressed hard for a favourable Answer. But Cordelia, whose Wisdom far exceeded her years, would return none; only said, she was content to conceal their Crime, because they had made Love of Her, the pretext for it. With this cold Comfort, the Friar returns to the impatient Prince; who with a Diamond had just wrote this Distich in the Window.  
How slowly do the tedious minutes pass,  
That drop through expectations narrow glass!  
Our Messenger out of breath with haste, and heartbroken, his News was no better, in a sorrowful Tone delivers his story. But the Prince, who received it more contentedly than the Friar durst hope for; since his Mistress neither banished him her sight for ever, nor was enraged to excess, did not wholly despair of kinder moments. Then in his Arms he hug'd the dear Procurer of his Happiness, and told him he longed again to view that fair one's Eyes, now she knew their Power. That Longing shall soon be satisfied answers the pleased Friar, consult your Pillow what to say, and tomorrow we will be sure to attend her. When they came the next day, the young Ladies were both in the Garden, and they, being privileged Persons, went both to them. Cordelia blushed at the sight of the Prince, yet in her heart could scarce harbour wrath, when she saw his Countenance turn pale, and the visible pangs his fears put him into; so that in spite of all his Courage, he had like to have fallen.  
There was a silent Meeting; every one being busily entertained within. The obliging Friar called Aminda aside, to behold the growth of a young Orange-tree they had planted some time before. She observed the hint, having understood the story from her Cousin: and knowing that, however she dissembled, she had an inclination to hear him. Alphonsus took this opportunity to cast himself at her feet, and tell her with what a zeal he worshipped her; that she was the perpetual Image of his thoughts, the Object of his dearest Wishes, the Centre of all his earthly Happiness. Whilst he spoke, Love trembled in his Eyes, and faltered on his Tongue, giving greater power to his broken Language, than choicest Eloquence. Cordelia forced him to rise; then told him he had already been an Impostor, and that in the most serious matter in the World; therefore he must give her leave to doubt him long; and also be very cautious of engaging in an Amour, which she could hardly ever think would be fortunate: it being begun with profaning a Habit that ought only to be wore by sacred Persons. Besides, she added, she gave up her Will and Actions in a perfect resignation to her Mother, and without her approbation should never proceed in so weighty a matter, having no other Friend she durst rely upon.  
In his Excuse for his Habit, he said, he hoped the purity of his Affection, with came near to Religion, would in some measure extenuate his Crime; and for her Mother's content, Heaven had so largely endowed him with the Goods of Fortune, he had great reason not to despair of it: But her Love was wha● he begged to obtain, since without that, even enjoying the World o● Beauty she possessed, would prove unsatisfactory; and though no thoughts were so terrible, as those which represented living without her; yet he would sooner undergod that exquisite Torment, than endeavour to procure Sulpitia's consent without first knowing, whether he gentle Breast was compassionate enough to receive sentiments of Kindness for him.  
Cordelia gave him a Look, which severely checked him, for prying so narrowly into her secret Thoughts and told him, she had already impaired her Duty in listening to such stories from a Stranger; nor could she, under much time, digest thi● odd beginning, if ever perswad● herself to proceed further. At 〈◊〉 end of these words she went to 〈◊〉 Company, not giving Alphonsus' time to answer. All the day after, the Prince could not perceive one favourable Regard, which terrified him to a high degree; and returning to Castro, he unloads his Bosom with Complaint. Tells him how cold that Sun of Beauty shone upon his hopes, and such Romantic stuff, as Lovers talk. Castro, the raising of whose Fortunes depended upon the favour of his Prince, seeing he was too positively bend to be persuaded, resolved to concur with him, and contrive all means possible for the obtaining his desires. The first Advice in order thereunto (because the Prince would not discover himself even to Cordelia; so fearful was he, lest his Greatness should tempt her, without Love, to be his Wife) was the buying an Estate some miles distant, to satisfy the Mother. This Alphonsus approved of; and he also thought it convenient the Friar ●●●●ld go alone, to give Cordelia opportunity to examine him, whilst his Instructions were often repeated to him, That he should say Don Pedro (as the Prince called himself) was of a noble Family in Ferrara; had an honourable Place in the Duke's Court, and came into that Country to view an Estate he had lately purchased. All This for much loved Gold, the Friar went and affirmed with the greatest confidence imaginable. Cordelia listened to it with much attention, and, blushing, said, the Stranger had the Aspect of a Gentleman, and must make his Address like one, if his Desires were so violent as he expressed: that being the only way to obtain them. Great were the Assurances the Friar gave Alphonsus, at his Return, of the good Inclinations Cordelia had for him.  
But 'twas impossible at present the Prince should follow her Advice, in appearing undisguised at Sulpitia's, both for want of Money to purchase an Estate, as also his returning to Court, which was now grown absolutely necessary. Therefore he resolves to leave Castro with Commission to inquire out an Estate; visit Cordelia once more, then haste to Ferrara. When Cordelia saw him come again in Priest's habit, notwithstanding the item she had sent him, she turned pale, and feared he had deceived her. He guessed the cause why her countenance changed, and blushed, which augmented her Jealousy. The Friar observed their disorder, and quickly set all right again, by taking Sulpitia away to consult of business, whilst Alphonsus told Cordelia, such pressing occasions called him to Court, that he could not possibly evade, without hazarding his utter ruin. He expressed this, and the inviolable Affection he had for her, with so becoming a tenderness, that he obtained from the charming Maid many words and looks of kindness; and as an instance of it, she promised to repair early to a Lodge over the Gate, that she might see him pass Mounted, en Cavalier. He said, the longest time of his stay should not exceed a Month. Obligingly she gave her lovely hand, to preserve him in her Memory, which he having ardently kissed, took his leave. The next Morning he appeared, attended by Castro, before the Lodge; and Cordelia at a little Window; a place prohibited her; though now by some contrivance, she had stolen to it.  
The Prince looked extremely graceful; being a Man of an extraordinary make. He sent up whole Volleys of Sighs to his fair Spectator; who in pity returned many; and kindly resolving to bestow a mark of her Favour; took a blue Ribbon from her Waste, that Colour being the Emblem of Constancy; and threw down to him. He passionately kissed it; returning his Obeisance with an admirable mien, and fixing his Eyes upon her, full of Love and Tears, he seemed ; till she, fearing some mishap, first held up her hands to Heaven, for his safety: then waved them in sign she would have him go; herself also retiring, forced him unwillingly to move forward. Castro accompanied him part of the way, and taking all needful Instructions, returned, visited the Friar; and leaving what money with him he could conveniently spare, gave him a great Charge to observe all proceed at Sulpitia's: and if any thing happened prejudicial, to give Don Pedro notice at Ferrara, by directions they had contrived; which still kept them concealed. The grateful Friar faithfully promised his utmost assistance, and Castro began his Peregrination, to seek an Estate that wanted a Purchaser. In this time of absence, there happened a Contrivance at Sulpitia's, that was very near ruining all their Designs.  
Lusetta, whom I mentioned at the beginning of the story, being discarded for her infidelity, repairs to the Kinswoman who had set her at work, and meets again with Don Ferado; where discoursing of these disappointments, she gives such a lively Description of the Beautiful Cordelia, that rekindles his Curiosity. So nothing now will satisfy him, without seeing her. But the means, there was the difficulty. After many irresolutions, Lusetta remembered a humour of Cordelia's, how she was always very fond of seeing the Trifles, straggling Women carry about to sell.  
In this dress Don Ferado is disguised; buys a world of little Pictures, fine Beads, and such Trinkets; goes with them, and hath immediately admittance into the House. The young Ladies, having notice, come about him; the was not a moment to seek, which was Cordelia, but so amazed at her Beauty, that he stood gazing without power to move. Cordelia blushed to see the Woman, as she took her to be, look so earnestly, and minded her of her Things. This roused the Spark a little from his Contemplation; yet still his Eyes could fix on no other Object. When she had furnished herself with the Toys she fancied most; he was dismissed. He returns in love, to that degree, that he thought of nothing but proposing a Marriage; though it was absolutely inconvenient; his Circumstances requiring a Fortune; having many Sisters to Portion. Yet so amiable, Cordelia appeared; that whatever Consideration interest offered, Love turned the Scale; and he follows his desires, with precipitation; employing a Friend the very next day, to solicit Sulpitia; who approves of the matter; gives leave to his Seranades; several of which were performed before Cordelia knew from whom, or so much as guessed her Mother was consenting. Till that discreet Lady, thinking it proper to sound her Daughter's inclinations, began to break the design to her. First commands her to follow into the Lodge, and shows her Don Ferado, bravely accoutred; prancing upon his great Horse. Words cannot express Cordelia's surprise; her Mind was already filled with an Idea, too admirable for Ferado ever to hope an Entrance; and compared to the Prince her partial Heart, being prepossessed with Love; made him appear beneath her regard; much less esteem. She pretends indisposition; and retires to her Chamber. Sulpitia saw her much disturbed; but was wholly ignorant of the cause.  
Cordelia instantly acquaints the Friar with this affair; declares her aversion, and desires him to inform Don Pedro. The good Man goes about it with speed, and dispatches his Intelligence to Ferrara, according to his directions. This information comes to the Prince, just as Castro had sent word of an Estate, he had pitched upon. The Priest's news hearty tormented Alphonsus; however he was infinitely pleased, Cordelia ordered he should know of it. The careful Friar had writ every circumstance of Don Ferado's Fortunes; and the Prince, with reason, looked upon him, as a formidable Rival; being a Neighbour, which, in all probability would induce Sulpitia to embrace his Interest, before the Prince's; who must of necessity be often absent, that is, if he kept his Quality concealed; which he could not, without running great hazards, avoid. Therefore he resolves to remove this Don Ferado; and to that end gets, by other hands, a Commission for a Regiment of Horse, and sends to him; with Orders, that he should speedily repair to Court. Ferado could not imagine what secret Friends had done him this favour; however he was advised by all his Acquaintance, to embrace it: they convincing him, how much it would conduce, both to his profit and honour. Great was the Conflict; Interest and Glory were powerful Arguments; but eager wishes, and fierce desires all centred in Cordelia, were more pleasing. These dear tormenting Flames he nourished; but Cordelia blasted; for there he could discover only frowns, disdain, and freezing coldness. All that love him, urge his going; and flattering hope persuades he may return Crowned with Laurel; at which the Cruel Maid, overcome by Constancy and Courage, may yield to longing love. Such thoughts at length prevail with him; and he sets forward to the Court of Ferrara, just as Alphonsus had left it; who posts away to Castro; takes care for the payment of the Money that was to be given for the Estate; puts servants into it, with orders to furnish the House neatly, and with riches, suitable to his pretended Quality: though he spared Magnificence.  
He had made himself very fine, and brought many considerable Presents for Cordelia; and having put all things at his new Mansion, in their designed Posture; he hastens, with Castro, to his Beloved Mistress. As soon as ever they arrived at the Village, the Friar was acquainted with it, who flies with the news to Cordelia; and humbly desires her from her Subject, yea and Slave, Don Pedro, to prepare Sulpitia with a full relation of all the foregoing adventure. The young Lady trembled at the Task; but Love manned her Resolution; and she, on her Knees, relates the story to her Mother. Sulpitia's Amazement, when she heard these unexpected Practices, is scarce to be conceived; however being a Woman largely endowed with Wisdom, and Discretion; she perceived her Daughter's Inclination, by her palliating the crime of his disguise, and representing every action favourably of this cunning Lover's. Therefore she considered, being ever indulgent to her Daughter, if she should now interpose her Authority; she might sooner break her heart, than bend it. These thoughts induce her to give way to his coming; setting herself to inquire after his Estate; which finding according to his word, and being afterwards, by his Conversation, acquainted with his Merit, grew very fond of him; freely giving her consent towards the obtaining his adored Cordelia. Whom he, with all love's Oratory, pursues; falls on his Knees, embraces hers, weeps, and talks till he forces a Confession; till she, blushing, acknowledges her Affection; owns she hath loved him from the first moment she saw him. The Transported Prince longs for the Consummation of his desires, and presses with his utmost Rhetoric a speedy Marriage. Which is at length agreed to, and performed, in Sulpitia's Chapel, by the often-mentioned Friar, before Sulpitia, Aminda, and Castro.  
None ever appeared overjoyed or fond, like this Amorous Prince, his doting still increased, every time he saw her, he seemed captivated anew; and, as in a well drawn Piece, the longer we gaze, the more graces we espy; so her charms to the admiring Alphonsus were endless; yet still his interest bound him to keep his Quality concealed being a secret, he durst not divulge to her. Thus privately they lived and enjoyed themselves for two years, the Prince being often absent, and long; which he always said was occasioned by his place at Court. Just as the first Year of Wedlock was expired, Cordelia Crowned the ensuing, with the birth of a Son, to whom the pleased Prince gave his own Name Alphonsus. A continued series of uninterrupted Happiness attended these Ladies for the preceding years; Sulpitia never parting from her Daughter, and Castro, the example of his Prince, Loved, Courted, and married Aminda; a Lady of a desirable Beauty, and agreeable Conversation. By the borrowed name of Phillipo, he wedded her, and she still continued with her much Loved Cousin.  
But Fortune now grew ashamed of longer confining such Illustrious Persons to so dull a Sphere, as the Country. For Alphonsus, coming to the Dukedom, by the death of Otho, after the first hurry of his affairs was over; dispatches Castro to fetch the beloved Cordelia, Sulpitia, and his own Wife Aminda, to Court. The Faithful Friar, no doubt would have attended them, and been sufficiently advanced but unkind Death prevented his preferment; he deceasing, to all their griefs, a little before. Castro arrives acquaints Cordelia with her Husband's desires, to see her, and Sulpitia at Ferrara; still concealing, by the Duke's Order, his Quality. The Ladies willingly embrace the offer, and assoon as possible, begin their journey; and in good time concluded it. He brings his fair Travellers to a House, near the Court, where, at night, the new Duke comes; leaving the Court privately, and going to them in his usual dress, so that they had not the least umbrage of suspicion.  
The only design the Duke had in this, was, the pleasure of surprising Cordelia; which is thus effected. On the morrow, Alphonsus leaves them betimes on pretence of extraordinary business, but he tells them, to make amends for his absence, Don Phillipo, when they are dressed, shall have them to Court, and show them the Duke's Palace; which they are much pleased with. They prepare for this fine sight, and Castro attends them. Through all those richly furnished Apartments, he conducts his wand'ring spectators; where they behold the Chairs of state, the Tables, Andirons, Pictures, Frames, Glass-Frames; all either Gold, or Silver. They admire this Magnificence, and also are astonished to see, with what respect, all that pass salute Castro. After they had tired themselves with viewing various objects of Majestic Glorious Finery, he leads them to a Garden; where in a lovely Banqueting-House, a Breakfast is prepared of all manner of varieties, and delicate cool Wines; which, whilst they are entertained at, Cordelia discourses of the bravery they had seen; and smiling upon Castro, said, I believe my husband, and you are Courtiers; but I begin to doubt ye for Politicians: for now you have discovered to your Wife, and me, the gaudy splendour of a Court: suppose we should fall in love with it, and with reluctancy return to our Country habitations. We are prepared for that, answers Castro; your station, Madam, being to Reign here; nor will Aminda, I hope, dislike hers. I know not what you mean says Cordelia, with a surprised look. I mean, he replies cunningly turning it; that where e'er Beauty, like yours, appears, it, of necessity, must Reign, since all must quit their claims, for sovereignty, when you approach. So, Daughter, cries Sulpitia pleasantly, you believed Don Philippo a Courtier, and now I think he hath proved himself a great one, by his compliment. When their repast and discourse was ended, Castro gins again to endeavour satisfying their unwearied Curiosity, in showing them the delightful Gardens that belong to the Palace, which Italy can scarce equal; though Italy is the Garden of the World. He tells them, that he hath yet a sight which exceeds all they have seen; that is the Duke at Dinner. This they are wondrous desirous of, Cordelia grows very inquisitive, what mighty affair detains her Husband, grieving much that he doth not participate in this Pleasure, and Entertainment. Castro promised to satisfy her in that also, in a little time. When Dinner was near, he brings them to a Closet, where, unobserved, through a Window, they might plainly see, all the Ceremony. After they had a while admired the melodious Music, and stately order of the Preparations: the Duke appeared environed with Nobles, so that at first, they could not easily distinguish him.  
But when they came to have their full views, each looked amazedly on the other. At length, saith Sulpitia, either we are in one of those enchanted Castles, we read of in Romances, where all seen is Illusion, or that Person in the Duke's Chair is really my Son in Law Don Pedro Did not I tell you, Madam, said Castro, smiling, and addressing to Cordelia, that I would show you your Husband presently? What does he mean, answers that fair one gravely, to dazzle thus ones Eyes, with Pageant-Greatness? Why doth he usurp the place of his Sovereign? It is no Usurpation, nor are you deceived, replies Castro, for the same Prince that has proved an indulgent Husband under the borrowed name of Pedro, no doubt will continue so; when he owns himself to be Alphonsus, Duke of Ferrara, and Modena. Cordelia could not digest this unexpected scene of greatness, without a visible alteration, both in her Countenance, and health; so that Castro was forced to Conduct her back to her Lodging. Sulpitia and Aminda accompanied her. When the surprise was over, and they were all descanting on these proceed; Aminda comes up very seriously to Don Castro; pray my dear, said she, what must I call you? for I hope you have followed my Lord Alphonsus' Example, and are some great person in disguise? This set them all a Laughing; and Castro told her she would time enough know his Quality; his greatest happiness being to have so kind a wife as herself, and so good a Master as the Royal Alphonsus.  
That Afternoon, several rich suits of  and Cabinets of Diamonds were brought to the young Duchess. The next day, she was, with great Pomp, received at Court, and by Alphonsus' owned, loved, carress'd beyond measure. That great respect and kindness, the Duke always honoured Cordelia with, taught all the Court to do the same. And this Beautiful Lady was so framed, and composed for her greatness; that she became it to a Miracle. Young Alphonsus was quickly sent for, and nurtured according to his Quality. Eighteen years Cordelia graced the Court of Ferrara, and blest the Arms of good Alphonsus. But then, to show us that Worldly happiness is seldom permanent, that Insatiate Tyrant Death, whose inhumanity spares neither the Fair, the young, or brave, ravishes from the fond Alphonsus, this soft Wife. Which irreparable loss, it being impossible for time or nature to repay, the Duke mourns to that excessive rate, that the ensuing Year he also dies.  
Alphonsus, the only Son and Heir to this departed Hero; the person who hath occasioned this relation, is Proclaimed Duke of Ferrara, and Modena. He had not long been in possession of it: before Ferado, who was now grown a popular Man, and had a settled picque against the Royal Family, for the loss of Cordelia, (so implacable and immovable is the hatred which proceeds from love refused) starts a Question concerning Alphonsus' Legitimacy; and boldly affirms, the late Duke was never married. He knew well, all the Witnesses were dead, except Aminda; and one Woman's word, would never convince a World; that is generally fonder of lies than Truth. This strange aspersion alarmed the whole Court, and most of the Neighbouring Princes. In all Courts there are factious persons, & persons desirous of change; though they were sure 'twere for the worst. Many of these ●oin with Don Ferado, and demand a clear proof of the Marriage, which Alphonsus, not being able to give, they appeal to Pope Vrban the Eighth; Who, willing to engross the Sovereignty himself, declares against the present Duke; expels him to retire to his ancient Duchy of Modena; which their utmost malice could not pretend to deprive him of.  
This is the Prince, who, remaining privately at Rome, to solicit his present Holiness for the regaining his right in Ferrara, has seen you: and left his heart and liberty at your Feet. His many applications to me, for the furtherance of his affairs, have given me opportunity to be throughly acquainted with him: and I have discovered such a Noble goodness in his temper that he does truly excel all others of his Sex. From him I had the foregoing story, which perhaps to you might sound Romantic, because I so punctually related each particular; but my hearing it often from this Prince Alphonsus, had deeply impressed every circumstance in my memory. I would not undertake to be his Advocate, especially, my Dear to you, (went Olimpia on, with the kindest aspect in the world:) did I not know him well; and also know that my interest with his Holiness, is of that large extent, as to Re-establish this Prince, in the Throne of his Ancestors. But I am convinced, he is in love to that degree; that all the Kingdoms of the Earth can never make him happy, without your favour.  
The Trouble his Father hath involved him in, (answers Melora) by matching privately, and below his dignity, aught, in common Prudence, to deter this Gentleman, from any such design. Oh, my fair one! (replies Olimpia) who can behold you and be deterred from loving, by the consideration of interest? But however repugnant it is to his interest (she proceeded gravely) I am sure it is very conspicuous, it agrees with yours, to listen kindly to the proposals of a Prince, who offers his Heart and Crown, without any other conditions, than your acceptance of it. Yet with closest Secrecy, this must be managed: for many of the Italian Princes will be drawn to assist him, in hopes of his Matching into their Families. And I believe you yourself would tax any person with egregious folly, that should refuse to accept an inestimable present, because given in the dark: when afterwards they'd have privilege to make use of it before all the World.  
A Scene of greatness straight appeared to Melora; and she with the Eye of Fancy, beheld herself seated in a Palace, attended by persons, born above her. Women are generally ambitious, and opinionated of their own merit; and though Melora might justly boat she had one of the largest portions of Wit, and Discretion: yet she was a woman partook of the frailty of her Sex; was willing to believe this fine story; and let these Glorious thoughts appear pleasing. Which Olimpia perceiving, augments these towering Joys, describing the pleasures of Pomp, and Splendour; extolling the happiness of being placed where Ten Thousand admiring Eyes would be fixed upon her; all watching the Motion of hers; to fly at her commands. Thus she cunningly turns the gaudy side of greatness to this young Creature's view, hiding the thorns and fatal vicissitudes, which too too often attend power, had her Lover been Duke of Modena. But (alas!) Unhappy Beauty, thy Malicious Stars have pointed Thee a sad and gloomy Fate; which she is thus conducted to. Olimpia takes Melora to a fine village of hers, near Rome, after she had prevailed with the deceived Lady to see this pretended Prince. The Cardinal, whose lust gave him Ideas, that every moment, put him into raptures, comes, by Olimpia's appointment, in the night, to this Country House, attended only by a young Gentleman, whose scanty fortunes the Cardinal had augmented, and thereby endeared him to his service. This Person is acquainted with the whole design; which he brooks not well, being a Gentleman, and hating such dishonourable proceed. But interest overcomes these Heroic sentiments; and Francisco (for that was his name) promises his utmost assistance. Antonio Barbarino is adorned with a World of finery to appear amiable; his Hatband is of Diamonds of almost an inestimable value, and every particular expresses as much magnificence, as possible. He keeps himself concealed, by Olimpia's advice, till next day; who thus contrives his appearance.  
She takes this day to show Melora the fineries of the House, and Gardens. In the midst of the Garden, stood a Banqueting-House, painted by the most famous of that ingenious Art. One side was Ida's Plain, and Paris the loveliest youth, that pencil ever drew, standing with his sheephook, before three contending Goddesses. He had just presented Venus with the Apple; who, by her pleasing smiles, adds to the vast Beauty the Painter had given her. Then in Juno, Envy, and threatening was so plainly delineated, that you could scarce view her without fear. Pallas looked with a noble scorn, as she knew her own Merit, and despised the Opinion of her Judge. When the Painter proposed this story to me, said Olimpia, I forbade him doing it; remembering in the Fable, the Goddesses appeared naked. The Limner guessed my scruple, and told me, I was mistaken in his design: for he would dress them all in Garbs, so becoming, that should sooner bribe a Judge, than naked Beauties. I think he hath been as good as his word, answers Melora, for that lose Sky-coloured Robe of Juno's is admirable, nor is Venus' Crimson of less finery; it gives a Lustre to her Skin. In my fancy, replies Olimpia the silver Armour of Pallas, which reaches to her knees, and those shining Buskins, that discover her Graceful Legs, exceed far the other. But behold here, added Olimpia, turning to the other side of the room; and give me your opinion of this.  
It was the Fable of Iphis' marriage; who, by his Mother's Prayer, was Metamorphosed into Man. First you beheld the Mother, devoutly kneeling; whilst in Iphis, you began to discover the effects of her Prayer. His Looks showed amazement, and his lovely Hair turned upon one Cheek, in short Curls, the other hung down dishevelled a little farther. He appeared jocund; his Face Manly; with his fair Bride, and all the splendour of a solemn Nuptial. These excellent pieces were encompassed with Festoons of Flowers, incomparably done. After Melora had sufficiently praised, and admired this surprizingly fine Painting; Olimpia desires her to sit down, in this delightful place, and requests her to sing the song, she loved; saying there was an excellent Echo; which mightily helped the voice. Melora, amongst her numerous perfections, had this in the highest degree: for all the judicious that ever heard her, owned her skill and sweetness unequalled. The Cardinal was conducted by Beatrice, Olimpia's woman, to the door of the Room; where he stood. No Princess lived greater in Rome, than the Princess Olimpia, and the had several Persons of good Quality her Attendants: but this Beatrice suited best her inclination, and was her chiefest Favourite. When the Friendship first began between Olimpia and Melora, this subtle Woman grew very uneasy, fearing a Rival in her Lady's Heart. But when the Cruel Olimpia entrusted her with the whole matter, and she saw this height was only the Prologue to her ruin, the malicious Wretch was infinitely pleased; and the Cardinal's Presents following, made her very assiduous in these wicked practices. Melora, ignorant of any unseen hearer, immediately obeyed Olimpia's Commands; and, with a charming Air, sung the following words.  

A SONG.  

AS young Aminta stood and viewed  
The Beauties of th' approaching Year,  
She sighed to think how soon they would  
Whither, grow old, and disappear.   

Strephon, who long had asked relief,  
But always begged and prayed in vain;  
Hoped more Advantage from her grief  
Than he before could ere obtain.   

Beware said he, my Life, my All,  
Destroying Time comes on apace  
Your fairest Charms must one day fall,  
And Age and Wrinkles fill their place.   

Improve your Youth now that remains,  
For Age does too too fast pursue;  
Be kind at last, requite my pains,  
And give to Love, and me their due.   

Then fly fair Nymph into any Arms,  
Whilst Youth, and Wit, and Beauty last;  
The Spring and Summer have no Charms,  
Which envious Winter will not blast.    
Just as she ended, the Cardinal steps forth; only bowing to Olimpia, whilst he eagerly addresses to Melora; and fixing his Eyes upon her, cries in a Passionate Tone; Ah Madam! I was enough your slave before; and in my ravished fancy, called you all divine, but now I heard your Angelic Voice, I am convinced you came into the World some extraordinary way; and are really one of the bright Inhabitants of Heaven. Therefore, with Justice, you may despise the sighs of grovelling Mortals. Melora was strangely surprised at his appearing without the least warning; and turning to Olimpia, her face being covered with blushes said; This is unkind, dear Princess, to let a stranger be Witness of your Servants failings, and unprepared receive such palpable flattery. Nay, Madam, returns Olimpia, bend all anger against the Prince, and I will join with you; for I think 'tis inexcusable in his Highness to surprise us thus without notice.  
All Messengers seemed too slow for my impatiency, replies that Impostor, nor could my own feet, though winged with desire, and love, conduct me half so fast as my wishes, to throw myself before this adored Beauty. Cease Prince, interrupts Olimpia, for I read displeasure in Melora's Eyes; this new strange Theme disturbs her. Divert us with the news of Rome; sure that great City cannot live a day without follies, ridiculous enough to make us laugh. If my Tongue must, (answers Barbarino) leave the dear delightful subject of my Life my Love; I hope you'll give my Eyes and sighs the liberty to speak the Language of my Heart. That we may venture to allow, I think, replies Melora; because we can have the privilege, not to observe them, and only listen to your news; which we both expect (adds Olimpia.) The freshest; I know, (gins the Cardinal very gravely) is of a great judgement, that is lately fallen on a fair young Lady. This Lady had an humble servant, whom the World called very deserving, but the Cruel Maid thought otherwise; and, notwithstanding Days, and Nights, and Months, spent all in Sighs and Prayers and Tears; yet her obdurate Heart feels no compassion. Nothing the Amorous Youth neglected, either to say, or act, that might have gained a kinder doom, though all in vain; which when he plainly found, overwhelmed with love, and deep despair, he languished a short time; then made his Everlasting Exit. Still the remorseless Maid was unconcerned; only Civility and Honour obliged her to attend him to his Grave. And lest her Spectators should there censure her guilty of Barbarity, she cunningly conveys an Onion into her Handkerchief, to supply the defect of Natural Tears. But now observe the Justice of her Fate; for, from that moment, so violent a conflux of Rheum followed, that she, for ever weeps, spite of all the Physician's Art. And if in any Company where Mirth prevails, than the streams run down, enough to fright them with the apprehensions of a second Deluge. Is not this, Ladies, (concluded the Cardinal) a sufficient warning to deter you from Cruelty? They both laughed at the Romantic News, and Melora said pleasantly, the greatest Miracle she found in the story, was, the Gallant dying for Love; that being, in these Ages, altogether unpractised, and out of fashion. In such Conversation they in secret passed their hours, whilst the Cardinal forgot not to improve them; but by a Thousand Glances, Sighs, and Whispers, told Melora, that he died, unless she in gentle pity saved him. Such great Persons wanted nothing, that either Art or Nature could afford, for their Pleasure, and Diversion: What they had told Melora of the Duke's being incognito in Rome, took off her mistrust when she saw him cautious to appear before any, but Olimpia herself, Beatrice, and Francisco. Every thing contributed towards the deceiving this poor Lady; the general discourse of Rome; which was, of the Duke of Modena's pretensions to the Dukedom of Ferrara; and that Prince's absence from his own Court, being often in the Courts of other Princes, soliciting Aid, in case the Pope denied him Justice: But these many circumstances were needless; for though Melora had a Vivacity in her Wit, peculiar to herself; a Judgement perspicuous and clear; yet so cunningly had Olimpia, by her seeming Fondness, and artful Insinuations, wrought upon the goodness of her temper; that she believed whatever that false one affirmed, steadfastly, as an Article of her Faith.  
After two days the Cardinal takes leave with all the passionate dearness Man can express; returns to Rome, whither the Ladies quickly follow: Olimpia still pressing her fair Favourite to be kind to this deserving Prince, as she always terms him.  
Melora was now wholly in the Princess Olimpia's Palace, only going every day to visit her Father; and every Night the Lovesick Cardinal paid his devoir to her. Yet spite of all these constant Visits, and reiterated Oaths of continual Love; Melora appears but cold, and expresses herself with a World of caution and reservation. This Torments the Amorous Priest beyond measure. Now, though Melora absolutely confided in Olimpia, her good Education had perfectly taught her to obey her Father's Will; and to undertake so great a Concern, without his Knowledge, shocked all her resolves, and dashed her with a Thousand Fears. Olimpia strives her utmost to encourage the beauteous trembling Maid; and in persuasive Arguments lays down the inconveniency of acquainting her, Father: for he being a Loyal Man, and in a public station, would certainly discover it to the King his Master; which would at present ruin the Prince Alphonsus in all his designs. Melora listened to whatever Olimpia urged; gave obliging Answers, but delayed complying. Nothing was so hateful to the Cardinal and Olimpia, as this protracting time, because they lay liable to a hundred accidents that might betray them; by which the Cardinal would irrevocably lose his Fame; and, what was much dearer, Melora. Therefore the next time they are together, he pleads with all his Love's Eagerness and Oratory; tells his fair Mistress, his desires were grown to such a height of Violence, that without her consent to the fulfilling them, they would certainly pray upon his Life, and from her Adorer he should become her Martyr. Ah Madam! (went he on, sighing passionately, and grasping her Knees) Why are you thus Cruel? Why do you force me to live in these Insupportable Agonies, when 'tis in your power to raise me to endless Worlds of Bliss? Is not the Appellation of Kind and Pitiful more pleasing to you, than the Savage Names of Cruel and Rigorous? With what reason (replied that Charmer sweetly) My Lord, can you Complain, or ask me more? Have I not already broke the Sacred Laws of Duty, which I used to hold Inviolable, and received you here Clandestinely: heard all the stories of your Love, and only resolved to take such time as may confirm the Constancy and Faith, which you, with so much Rhetoric, have Vowed.  
In that resolve you give me Death (said he, with a sad Air) and e'er my probation ends, you'll be convinced, by the sublimest Proof, that I am yours. When he said this, he takes his leave, and before he left the House, relates all this to Francisco; ordering him to stay, till Olimpia was at leisure to hear it; and send him her advice in these perplexities. Through the Gardens, and Walks of Donna Olimpia's Palace, the Cardinal always went home, only passing a narrow Lane, he came to a back door of his own, where a Servant constantly attended: One, who, many Years, had been acquainted with his Debauchees, and Night Rambles, though he was not trusted with the story of this Intrigue. Barbarino going Melancholy through the before mentioned Lane was surprised, notwithstanding the darkness of the Night, and lateness of the hour, to perceive the glittering of Swords; and stepping hastily to avoid them, one immediately rushed upon him, and gave him a Wound in his Breast; at which the amazed Cardinal cried out, Villains! Assassinates! Hearing his Voice they fled; only saying, Damn it, we were mistaken in our Man.  
'Twas very near the Cardinal's private Door, this accident happened, and the Servant that waited for him, having skill in Surgery, he trusted him to search the Wound; who assured the frighted Priest, that there was no danger; only the loss of Blood would, for some Days, confine him to his Bed, and Chamber. He then began to revive his Courage, and Commanded the Servant to say, his Illness proceeded from a violent bleeding at the Nose; which took him in the Night: this passed upon his Physicians; who only ordered him comfortable Cordials to renew his Spirits.  
The next Morning, the Cardinal found himself at ease enough, to consider his Love affair, and accordingly dispatches Francisco, to acquaint Olimpia with his Misfortune; and to beg, her Almighty Wit would make some advantage of it with his Mistress. One would have thought, the Heavens sending the Mischief, designed another, on the Cardinal's Head, might have deterred them from pursuing further the ruin of that soft Innocent, the fair Melora; but they were hardened, and Olimpia, resolving to fulfil the desires of the Friend of her darling Lust, Ambition, managed with Woman's Cunning, her design.  
Melora observed Olimpia Melancholy; and her fondness and particularity to her, laid aside; and for three days only Complacency, and cold Civility remained. This perplexed her strangely; fain she would have asked the reason; longed to know the cause of the Duke's (as she thought him) absence; but Modesty, the Virgin's constant necessary useful Guest, witheld her Questions a while. At length, impatiency prevailed, and she desired Beatrice to let her know, when the Princess Olimpia would be alone in her Closet. The same day, word was brought her she was so, and wished to see her. Melora attends her the very instant; and found that subtle Lady sitting upon a Couch, leaning her head upon her hand, with an unusual sadness in her Face. Assoon as Melora entered, she bid her sit down; then, fetching a deep Sigh, continued silent. The poor young Creature surprised with this counterfeited sorrow, remained also dumb, for some time, till her Tears made way for her words. She implored Olimpia to acquaint her, if through any inadvertency, she had offended to that degree, as to lose the honour of her Friendship, and be banished that dear Bosom, where all her Happiness and Delight were Centred; Adding, with a World of sweetness and real trouble, how willingly she would abate, participate; or, if possible, take off those griefs, she saw overwhelm her beloved Princess, might she but know the cause. Olimpia lifting up her head, answered very seriously; my Affliction will perhaps occasion your rejoicing; I mourn the Prince Alphonsus, whom as a Friend I loved. Your inclination caused him to be your aversion; and consequently his Miseries will move no Pity; which made me forbear relating them.  
Alas, Madam! (replies Melora) wherein has your Highness discovered that aversion, you are pleased to charge me with? I have received the Prince's Address, with all the Complacency imaginable, at any time, or any hour. If this is hatred, I am mistaken; and must beg directions, how to express my Esteem to my Lord Alphonsus; both as to his own merit, and what's yet more, a Person recommended by you, (ended she, bowing.)  
With such a height of Passion, such an excess of tenderness (returns Olimpia) the Prince adores you, that your fatal Coldness hath destroyed him. Signore Francisco acquaints me, that, ever since his last parting from you, he hath Languished of a Fever; which his Physicians say, is desperate; whilst he, Foe to himself, and Friend to his Disease, gives way to that, and slights all their Applications.  
Let me die (cried out Melora eagerly; frighted with the apprehension of such a Person's Death) rather than have a guilt like this, imputed to me; Ah Madam! (went she on) if you have any sparks of that generous love remaining, which you bestowed on this Ungrateful; teach me a way to expiate my Crime. I own whate'er my inclination was, I erred, to an extremity, in disobeying your Commands; and to atone, I'll Visit him, I'll write, do what my nature hath most abhorred; so my Princess will again receive me into favour.  
Do nothing against stomach (Answers Olimpia coldly) and though I know a line or two might save his Life, yet a dissembled kindness is but a Reprieve; and to relapse into despair, is irrecoverable, therefore I'll not ask it; 'tis to desire a present Cordial, that carries with it, a future Poison. When she had said this, she left Melora in the Closet, and went to Company, that stayed to kiss her hand.  
Nothing was more glorious, than the Friendship of Donna Olimpia; who enjoyed it, participated of all the pleasures and grandeur of Rome. Then, to be a Princess! Attractions, which may excuse Melora, if she committed an indecency in writing to the pretended Duke. For after many struggle with her native reservedness, she resolved it, and wrote thus.  
To the Duke Alphonsus.  
MY belov'd and ever honoured Princess tells me your Highness is unfortunately seized with Sickness; and unkindly makes me the occasion of it. If I have that power over you, which my want of Charms persuades me I am only flattered with; I charge you, use your best endeavours to recover Health, and hasten to us that I, through your mediation may be re-established in the heart of my dear Princess. Which Obligement can never sufficiently be acknowledged, or returned by  
Your Servant Melora.  
Olimpia in haste dispatched her Visitants, those of Ceremony, and those of Business. Coming back to the Closet, she found Melora reading; having left the Letter open upon the Table. Melora stood up as Olimpia came in, and begged she would please to peruse that she had written; saying, she was wholly ignorant of those sort of Letters, and humbly prayed her approbation. When Olimpia had read it; she, smiling, said; you have played the pretty Sophister, my dear, and so kindly expressed your obliging sentiments of Friendship, that I know how to resent your Cruelty, in discovering so little Love to a Prince, who perhaps may want Life to receive it. Beatrice undertakes the conveyance, and with needful caution hath it delivered to the Cardinal; who began already to think of speedily leaving his Chamber, and this favour added to his health, and his desires. He, all night, contrives the kindest Answer, words could frame, and the next Morning sends it to Olimpia; who, with her usual cunning, presented it; first bewailing his weakness, then wondering at Love's Power, which had given strength to answer her Letter so quickly. Melora, blushing, took it; and to Olimpia read as follows.  
Alphonsus to the Divine Melora.  
WEre I dying, I'd force my trembling hand to write Melora thanks, but I am better, returning from the grave. The charming Mandate, which brought me your Commands to live, brought likewise power to obey them. Yes my Adorable Mistress, I own you have saved my Life; and 'tis a mighty act of mercy. Yet Pardon me, fair Saint, if I presume to say, there's Justice in it too; for 'tis but just my Angel should preserve that Life, which is wholly dedicated to her service.  
How think you, Madam, cries Olimpia hastily; does he not write, as well as he speaks; I own him Excellent at both, Answers Melora; therefore should not I be guilty of Vanity, to imagine myself blest with perfections great enough, to Merit his endless Love?  
Olimpia replied, in Compliments of her worth, and caressed her with new Endearments. A few days after the Cardinal's Physicians advised him to the Country Air, for the perfecting his recovery; and he let his Friends know, that being weak, he desired privacy without Visiters, designing to spend this time at Olimpia's Villa, (attended only with Francisco) instead of his own; though the World was made believe he lay there retired.  
Assoon as Olimpia understood the matter, according to the Cardinal's wishes, she asks Melora to leave Rome a second time with her; telling her also, that the Duke of Modena was advised to the Air for his Health; and she had given him an invitation to her Villa; where he might remain undiscovered. I let you know this, said Olimpia; that you may not seem suprized or displeased at his coming to us. Melora received the News of his Company very agreeably; and they with much pleasure began their Journey. Soon after the Cardinal arrives, and 'twas then, and not till then, that Pity, Loves sure Forerunner, seized the Compassionate Heart of that young soft Maid; when she beheld Antonio look as pale as Death, and tremble, as he moved, with weakness. This, she thought, Almighty Love had been the only cause of, and that the World would Tax her of Barbarity, should she refuse to apply Cordials of Kindness, to such a consuming Languishment. Therefore she receives him with smiles; and says obliging things, that beyond measure charmed the Priest. They Supped together in Olimpia's Closet; and being all pleased, their Conversation was extraordinary. Barbarino had formerly been employed in several Negotiations, to the Courts of Foreign Princes; he had good natural parts, and all the Acquirements of Learning, that great Men are able to receive. No wonder then his Company was agreeable to Melora; who was ingenious, and therefore understood the wit he delivered in pleasant relations and discourse.  
While they were at Supper, Beatrice brought Olimpia word, that there was a Benedictine of the Neighbouring Monastery, waited to desire the honour of her Highness' Presence at the Feast of their Patron; which was to be Celebrated on the Morrow. I shall incur your displeasure, said Olimpia smiling, my Lord Duke, if I take Melora with me; yet I would willingly have her see the Solemnity, because I believe it will be very fine. I shall mourn your Absence, replies the Cardinal, but should grieve more to hinder the fair Melora participating the pleasure of beholding the Ceremony. We will endeavour to make my Lord amends, at our return, with a full relation of our Entertainment, said Melora.  
A Description from so sweet an Oratrix will charm me far beyond the gaudy show, answers the Cardinal. Thus they talked away the Evening; and the next Morning, the Ladies risen early, to prepare for the Festival. When they were dressed, Barbarino was admitted to pay them a Visit in Olimpia's Chamber. Melora looked surprisingly beautiful, and the Cardinal expressed his admiration, in lavish Commendations; seeming to come nearer to view her: he, in a moment, fixed a Crociate of valuable Jewels upon her Breast. She went immediately to take them of; but Olimpia coming up forbade her; and she, blushing, let them remain.  
That Night several Persons of Quality conducted the Princess Olimpia, from the Monastery home. The Ladies were obliged to stay and entertain them, so that they could not see the Cardinal. The next day Olimpia resolved to have to herself; and gave her Servant's order to say she was indisposed, and would receive no Visits. They chose a retired Grotto to spend the day in. This cool retreat was very delightful; for 'twas with wondrous pains cut in a Rock, the Lights were all covered with Vines; which looked very agreeable. One side of the Grotto was hanged with Forest Tapestry, the other most artificially adorned with Moss-work, which glittered with shining Shells and Pebbles; whose Lustre equal Diamonds. The Couch and Canopy was green Florence Sarsenet; at the end, opposite to the Door, a full Curtain of the same hung down to the ground: along the side of the Rock that was covered with Moss, a small Rivulet ran, whose pleasing Murmur was able to inspire the most stupid, with tender Sentiments. Whilst Olimpia said something to the Cardinal, Melora fixed her Eyes upon the purling Stream; whose transparent clearness showed the bottom, stowed with the Rock's Ornaments, Shells, and Pebbles. The Cardinal turning, observing her so intent, stooped nearer; and with an Engraving Pen, upon the Marble Pavement, wrote thus: 
Should some small Water Deity to day  
Be sporting here, and those bright Eyes survey,  
With eager haste he'd fly to Neptune's Court,  
And tell the God the Place of your Resort.  
Then, turn away those All-Commanding Eyes,  
Lest this small Rill, should to an Ocean rise;  
And Neptune vanquished by thy kill Charms,  
Should bear thee hence within his Watery Arms.   
See, Madam! said Olimpia, when she had read 'em: the Prince's Passion penetrates the obdurate Marble; yet your harder heart still denies access.  
Melora was amazed to behold the lines at her Feet; thinking they had still been discoursing. She had, with blushes, just perused what was written, when from behind the Curtain, they heard the agreeable charming found, both of Vocal, and Instrumental Music. Ha! cried Olimpia, seemingly surprised, you mentioned the Watery Deity, and I believe he has sent his Mermaids, to entertain you. I rather suspect an Earthly Goddess, replied Melora, smilingly, looking upon Olimpia; and the best way to express our thanks for the favour, is silence. Whilst the Italian songs, with the most exquisite Music, was performed, they dined; and after that, the Princess Olimpia gave her Commands the Music should retire. The Curtain was drawn up, and the delicate Organs discovered; which, from the Water received their incomparable Music; and all the glorious painted seats, which held the tuneful Masters, whom they had heard before.  
In vain, cried Melora, in a pleasing transport, we hunt the World for pleasures, when ransacked Italy, can never equal, what my charming Princess' Villa gives. Ay but, my Life, returned the Cardinal, I expect the discharge of your Promise, in describing the Entertainment you received Yesterday.  
Indeed, went the fair one on, smiling, I think these Saints Festivals are fuller of diversion, than devotion. To see a fat Abbot walk in state, covered with Embroideries, and looking as great, as if the Triple Crown adorned his Head; and all their Ornaments set forth in the greatest Pomp and Lustre imaginable; doth it not resemble Pride, and Vanity? Be cautious, my dear, interrupted Olimpia, lest you incline to the error of the Heretics; who care not how fine their Houses are, nor how plain their Churches; tacitly discovering they love, and esteem themselves, better than the Deity, they Worship.  
I submit, said Melora, and will admire their glories. But to what end should I describe vast Banquets of Sweetmeats, and delightful Music; which is here every day excelled. That only which deserves perpetual remembrance, was the Lovely Duke and Duchess of Parma. Such a becoming tenderness he expressed, such a sympathy of Souls there seemed, as if one could not do, what the other did not like. How can you praise, what you refuse to practice, cried the Cardinal in a Rapture; so would I gaze all day on those loved eyes; but then the Night; the Night; burning, raging, sighing, clasping! Oh forbear my Lord! (Olimpia stops him;) leave these strong ecstasies; till that happy Night arrives: see how Melora blushes. Indeed said the Cardinal, cooling himself with a sigh, I ought to have patience, since that Duke, you mentioned, waited long for one, less fair, and through many hazards, at length was blest.  
Olimpia knew, Melora took delight in nothing more, then hearing the Histories of Persons, where the Capriccios of Fortune had been most evident: and to oblige her, asked the Cardinal, if his Highness was acquainted with the particulars of their loves? He answered her that he could procure them a full relation, if they desired it; for Francisco was bred, from a Child, in the Duke of Parma's Court; & informed of each minute circumstance. Melora expressed great joy at the proposal; and Francisco being called, the Cardinal commanded him to sit down, and to the Ladies relate the Adventures of Emilius, and Lovisa, Duke and Duchess of Parma. Francisco, after a moment's recollection, with a submissive reverence, began thus.   

THE HISTORY OF Emilius and Lovisa.  
I Shall not attempt (most Illustrious Auditors) to describe the Persons of this Prince and Princess, because my words cannot reach the height of their Perfections; as your own Eyes may be witness; but must of necessity go so far back, as to take a view of the late Duke and Duchess, Parents to this. He was a great Soldier, and a great Politician, which of consequence rendered him a great Man; yet of a humour so positive and absolute, that neither Sons nor Subjects durst ever contradict his Resolution. Whilst the Duchess was all sweetness and affability, as oft as possible mitigating the sternness of her Lord, and obliging all the World with Offices of Kindness.  
He had two Sons, one elder than the present Duke Emilius, over whom he exercised an Authority, wherein very little of the Father appeared; whomsoever they favoured he frowned upon, always denying them whatever they coveted with eagerness. Few therefore durst make their Court assiduously to the young Princes, lest they incurred the anger and jealousy of the Old Duke. Only Count Bileront broke all these Rules of Policy, and openly professed an entire Service, and humble unfeigned Friendship for the Prince Emilius, with whom he had been nurtured. The Duke often stormed at that, often chid the Lovely Youths for their so strict amity; and often Commanded Bileront's Father to send him farther from Court. Yet all these shocks they stood; for Emilius, who had a large share of his Mother's sweet nature, drooped so when they went to part them, that before he reached at Manhood, they could not do it, without visible danger to the Prince's Health. By that time Emilius had past his Eighteenth Year, he grew quite tired of the Court; the harshness of his Father's temper abridging him of all those Enjoyments, whereunto his Inclinations led him. He sets all Engines at work to obtain leave, that he may join the Venetians, as a Noble Volunteer, and see a Campaign; hoping to raise his Reputation in the World, and quit, for some time, a place that disgusted him. After much opposition, Emilius accomplished his desires; but the Old Duke not finding in his heart to prove too indulgent, order Bileront to stay behind; and perceiving notwithstanding that faithful Youth, covertly prepared to follow him, he without harkening to the entreaties of his Friends, Imprisoned him under a strict Guard. If Emilius resented this ill, he was very likely to meet with the same treatment. So that being assured no other harm was designed him but to hinder his Accompanying him; he smothered his smarting griefs, and went on with his intentions. Several young Sparks, in whom the love of glory had kindled a Warlike Fire, forsook the soft pleasures of the Palace, and waited on the Prince. This Noble Cavalcade having left Parma, directed their course towards his Holiness' Galleys, where they designed to embark, after staying some time at the Port, till the Fleet were ready to sail. As the Prince, having all his things Embarked, was walking on the shore, he felt somebody take him by the Cloak, and turning, he saw one in the garb of a Common Soldier; but looking more heedfully, Oh how pleased was he to behold his loved Bileront; such Joy filled their delighted Souls, there was no room for words. At length, a hundred Questions throng together, which as confusedly are answered. Bileront, whose sweet Eloquence could move things almost inanimate (for next to that I account the stupid sort of Men) had with his Promises and Presents prevailed upon a Sentry to let him have his , in which he dressed himself, the Fellow putting on the young Lords, and over them his own Cloak, and thus they both escaped. Now Emilius' wishes were complete; and the faithful happy Friends went in all haste aboard. I will not trouble your Honours with a description of the War, only say of these, they were a second Pylades and Orestes; always fight by each other, always undertaking the greatest dangers; and always Crowned with Glory. The Campaign ended, they with several of the French Nobility, Volunteers likewise, went to France; and in that Court spent their Winter. In the mean time, the Duchess of Parma longed to see her Darling Son; and having at length, obtained Bileront's Pardon, she writes earnestly to her dear Emilius, that he would return. He obeys his indulgent Mother's reiterated desires, and again, with his Favourite Bileront, graces the Court of Parma. His Travails had extremely added to his natural perfections, and though he was not Heir Apparent, yet his eminent accomplishments drew all admiring Eyes towards him. Nothing now was to be seen in the Palace, on the Dutchess' side, but Balls, Masquerades, and such other demonstrations of Royal Pleasures. At one of the Balls, a young Lady, having danced in a Persian Habit, with a particular mien and charming smoothness; Emilius asked who she was, saying, he had not observed her amongst the Beauteous Train before, though he thought she excelled them all. He was strait informed her name was Lovisa, Daughter to Don Henrique, and Donna Elvira, who were, as he knew, both great Courtiers and had, Dying, left this their only Child, to the care of the Duchess; that her Fortune was very opulent, and her Person very taking. For his not seeing her, the reason was, she had been some days in the Country, and returned but the night before. This, adds the Prince's Informer, is an account of the fair Lovisa, who is called the Dutchess' Ward; and adored by all. Emilius, getting near her, told her in a whisper that she was unjust, her Beauty being enough to fix all Eyes upon her, she ought not to excel so transcendantly in Dancing too; but let some more indifferent do that, and obtain a glance. Lovisa, blushing at the Prince's praises, answered him; we must expect your Highness full of the French Gallantry, and whatever Object you are pleased to rally is obliged to bear it. That place was too public, for a longer Conference, but the Prince was wonderfully pleased with her, and talked of nothing else all the night, to his dear Billeront. Soon after, he paid Lovisa a visit; and finding her Conversation as full of charms, as her lovely Face, he was never so well pleased, as when with her. His Mother the Duchess, saw this growing Friendship, but hating nothing more than venturing Emilius in another Campaign; and considering Lovisa was a great Heiress, whose Ancestors sprung from a Branch of the Royal Family, he also being the second Son; should he fall in love with her, the match would not be so disproportionable. These reasons made the Duchess not only connive at his often Visits; but also conceal them from the Duke. Lovisa's Apartment lying through the Dutchesses, the Duke thought he had been with his Mother, whilst he and Bileront spent their time more pleasantly.  
They had formed a Party for their particular Conversation, which they called the Friendly Society, and made several pretty Laws amongst themselves, with suitable Penalties, if they infringed them. One was, to communicate to all the Campany, every Letter they received, be it Love, or Gallantry. Nay if it was business, some Person was to inspect it cursorily over, and witness to the rest, that it afforded no diverson. Happy was he, that could partake the satisfaction of this ingenious company; which was composed of the highest young Quality. Their discourse was made up of pithy relations; or viewing the newest works of the writing Wits; Censuring, or extolling those labours of the brain, according to their Merit. Emilius, coming one day, before the usual hour for their meeting, surprised Lovisa alone, reading a Letter, which she blushed at, and hastily put up, when the Prince came in. Ha', Madam! cried he, eagerly running towards her, have I caught you breaking one of our greatest Laws? She blushing still answered, 'twas business. This augmented the Prince's curiosity; and he said very gravely, you know, Madam, our Statutes are, that if Letters are full only of business, one is just to overlook that, and report it to the whole Body of our Society. Now I being here first, claim the privilege of seeing it, and satisfying the rest. She insisted, 'twas in her power, to choose the Person, she desired should see it; but finding the Prince really earnest, unwilling to displease him, she gave it him, which he read thus; (for said Francisco, I having the happiness to know each particular of this Intrigue, took Copies of all the Letters to help my Memory.)  
Don Alvarez, to Donna Lovisa.  
Madam, My Dear Niece,  
I Hope you will esteem the proposal I here send you, as a testimony of my Kindness; and believe, that my continual study is for your Advantage, and Honour. The young Count Lodowick is now preparing to kiss the Duke's hand, and make a handsome appearance at Court, his Estate is large; and the World justly calls him a Gallant Man. He is already in love with the report Fame brings us of you. I don't Question but your Sight secures your Conquest; pray let me hear your Opinion of him. I am, My Dear Kinswoman,  
Yours Alvarez.  
The Prince sighed, and 〈…〉 as he read this Letter; and giving 〈◊〉 Lovisa again, said, I don't like this Marrying, 'twill spoil our Society. I'll give my Vote, that it shall be High Treason, for any of our Ladies to Marry. Nay then, returns Lovisa, laughing, we shall have a very pretty Character Twenty Years hence, a Company of Old Ill-natured Maids; better forsake the World quite, and become holy Nuns. Well, answers the Prince, I find all my Joys are at an end. You must be in Love now, and we bear all those absences of Mind, so frequent in Lovers, Silent whole hours; or if you talk, Count Lodowick must be brought in, by head and shoulders, at every Paragraph. You were the glory of our little Select World: your Wit and Eloquence gave Life to all was said; now you forsake us, I'll forsake the rest, and leaving an insipid Court, i'th' Camp forget Lovisa; if that be possible; (ended he with a sigh.) My Lord, replies Lovisa, I have endeavoured to be rude, and interrupt your Highness; you talk, as if I was to be Married to Morrow. The World (went she on, with a Majestic Air) knows little of Lovisa's Heart, if they imagine it so easily gained; and that but hearing of a Man, is likely to fall in love with me, I should begin first to be so with him. More of the appointed Friends coming in, the Conversation became general; yet still Emilius was harping on this (to him) ungrateful string, Count Lodowick's coming. He asked Lovisa, whether she thought she should fancy him, and what sort of Man she could like, begging her to express what Qualifications she expected in the happy Slave, whom, amongst her numerous Adorers, she would bless with her Smiles.  
My Lord, said that charming Maid, were I to behold a Man Masculine, yet Beautiful, Great, yet truly Brave; A Prince whose Virtues, brighter than his Diadems, appear; one more glorious than boundless Fancy can to the thinking Mind depaint; and, not convinced by signal proofs, his heart inclined, his passion forced him to my feet: I might gaze on such a Masterpiece; but my Eyes should let him no farther in: He never should disturb my Mind. You may, replied the Prince, love wheresoever you look; nor need to fear they'll not sigh for you; at least, if I may judge the Soul of others by my own. Lovisa took this for raillery, and pleasantly returned, such Hearts as yours will be most glorious Trophies, and I shall grow exceeding proud, but that, to humble me, I know Prince Emilius' way, and my own Imperfections.  
That night Bileront, whose Apartments joined the Prince's, heard him, after all was gone to rest, walking about his room. Fearing he was not well, he risen and went to him. Pardon, said Bileront, if I intrude, and fly uncalled, to learn what disturbs my Lord. Oh my Friend! (Answers the Prince) I'm sick at heart, the Distemper revels there; and gives me pains that I ne'er felt before. Bileront, who was really frighted, began to call the Servants for the Physicians; when Emilius hastily stops him, saying, it lay not in the power of Art. None, none could heal his wounds, but the fair Causer. Then blushing, and hiding his Head in the Bosom of his dear Friend, he told him he loved the glory of her Sex, the sweet Lovisa. I mistrusted long ago (went on the Amorous Prince) but durst not examine my heart on that point, till Yesterday discovering another like to possess her: love and despair at once seized me; broke the soft Chains of sleep, and set me here upon the Rack. Bileront said all, excessive Friendship prompted, to calm the distempered Mind of his loved Master; but he, witty to torment himself, studied impossibilities that might arise, to bar his wishes, out of mere Chimeras: though indeed obstructions there were enough. Thus spent the restless Prince the tedious Night. Next day, he longed till the fatigue of Ceremonious Duty, business, all was over; that he might find his darling Mistress, where all his thoughts were fixed. He saw her; thought her more charming than ever since to himself he had owned he loved her. Then he gave no bounds to his admiring Eyes; but helping forward his disease set every thought at work; what Happiness, what Raptures she could give. When he came near her, tremble and sighs turned him pale; then a rising heart covered his face with blushes. He tried to tell his love in whispers, but his courage failed him, for he, who truly loves, beholds his Mistress stamped with such divinity as awes his presumption. Nor dares he trust his tongue, lest that too boldly should offend; leaves to his Eyes the sad silent Tale; and hopes the Charmer will read it there. Lovisa, who thought the minds of others like her own, free and gay, was brisk as Air; and often chid the Prince for his unusual Melancholy; nor could she forbear ask Bileront if he knew the cause. He answered her ambgivously; suppose she herself was, would she promise a remedy? That's so unlikely, said she 'tis not worth my answering; for I never was chearfuller in my Life; and I hope my mirth is not so ridiculous, as to work just the contrary on the Prince. Bileront feared to say more; lest he should incur the danger of displeasing both.  
A few days after, this expected Count Lodowick came, was very well received by the Duke, the Eldest Prince, and indeed all the Court, except Emilius; who notwithstanding his natural sweetness, could not forbear looking cold on this young Nobleman; whilst Lodowick's only care was to dress well, and make a Figure answerable to his Quality. Finding Lovisa the handsomest Lady; he was most particular to her though he had a general complacency for all the young and fair. Mean time Emilius' melancholy so visibly increased that every body took notice of it. He complained to his faithful Bileront, that he thought Lovisa took more care in dressing, since the arrival of Lodowick; and he fancied she gave him favourable glances; then would he burst into a Passion, and ask that fond Friend, wherein Lodowick deserved more than he? Thus, this impatient Prince nursed up groundless terrors, till they robbed his days of Joy, his Nights of rest. When Bileront could get leave to speak, he told the Prince, that for his part, he discovered no such alteration in the dress, or looks of Lovisa; than you talk (went he on) of her preferring Lodowick before you: when alas, she is wholly ignorant, knows not the vast honour her Eyes have won; think you, my Lord, being possessed of your Illustrious Heart would not satisfy her Ambition; and were she assured of it, I dare believe Lovisa would prefer you in her esteem, not only to Lodowick but even to all the World. Yet still either a favourable opportunity was wanting, or his fears how Lovisa might receive a Declaration of Love prevented him; and poor Emilius languished on.  
Bileront met, one day, Lovisa, in a private Garden, belonging to the Palace, in quest of a Favourite Female Friend; who, she was told, was gone to walk there. Meeting Bileront, she asked him if he had seen her; Bileront had just left the Prince Emilius alone, in a Grotto; and strait resolved, without much consideration, to send his Mistress to him. Accordingly he directed this fair Lady thither; tells her very confidently, her Friend was there. The Prince started as she entered the Grotto, and Lovisa leapt back, with the surprise; both blushed at this unexpected Rencounter; till Lovisa, taking it only for a trick of that young Lord; recollected herself, and smiling told Emilius; she would be revenged on Bileront; nay, said she, pleasantly, your Highness ought to join with me, since he occasioned this interruption of your thoughts. Madam (returned he bowing) you you might much more properly call it, an Elevation of thoughts, for I assure they were full of you, in Courts, in Camps, in Cells, in Grottoes. Answered that fair one, in a pretty Heroic tone: Emilius is still the same; all Compliment; all Rhetoric. Yet not so to all, replies the Prince, looking passionately upon her, 'tis only Lovisa merits more, much more, than I can say were my tongue immortal and Tuned to nought but praise. Ah! sit Lovisa, and hear the State of poor Emilius' Heart lest you find too late how fatally I was in earnest.  
Lovisa still smiling, said; Ha! it seems the Plot lies deeper than I imagined. I am to believe your Highness is in love, am I not, to help the Jest? The Prince vexed to see the real Language of his heart turned into raillery: threw himself at her feet; and spoke with a moving Air, thus. If to have you the perpetual Image of my waking thoughts; or when I sleep the charming Vision of my Dreams: if it be greater pleasure to hid me from the enquiring World, that I may shut out all but you, to fancy joys in you beyond the Crowns the united Universe could give: to draw it Hell without you: to sigh, and wish, and tremble, when I hear you named; if this be love, I'm sure I am in love.  
Lovisa rising, and viewing the kneeling Prince, with a becoming Majesty, said, Remember, Sir, as you are born a Prince, so I descend from the same Line; my Soul as great as yours; therefore, if you vainly think, depending on your Birth, the conquest easy; and I with open Arms must receive your offered love: I say you are much deceived; for whilst there are Monasteries, or distant Kingdoms, to the Earth's Verge I'll fly, rather than meet with Arrogancy, instead of that respect, which humble Love Creates. Am I arrogant? (replied the passionate Prince) when prostrate at your feet I Lie? Carry these dying Eyes a look of pride? Blasted be the Honours of my Birth unless it helps me forward in my Love! And for yours to me, you are a Queen, a Goddess. Rise, my Lord, Lovisa interrupts him; I have heard enough. This is a strange Theme; forget it Prince; indulge not such desires, destructive to your Peace, and never like to be fulfilled. ' Were I, said the Prince (as he lead her out of the Grove) so wretched; convinced that destiny must attend me; Life so, tormenting I would not bear too, long. They had walked but a few paces, when they met Bileront, and the Lady Lovisa wanted, whom Bileront had entertained, that she might not disturb Emilius. The Count soon read in both their Faces, the Minutes had not been spent in common talk. Many Weeks this Amorous Prince employed in trying to persuade Lovisa, that he loved her above all Earthly things; yet had obtained no more than a bare permission to tell her this, whenever opportunity favoured.  
The Court was, all this while, ignorant of the Amour; they knew there was a Cabal of Wits, and thought Emilius only went often for the sake of the Conversation. Love's an unexhausted Spring; and still hath something more to say; nor could the Prince be satisfied with short Discourses, stolen at Windows, or got some moments, before other Company came. He longed for whole hours, and fancied, if he had time enough, he might move her heart to pity. To that end, he sent Bileront (whom Lovisa had given him leave to make his Confident) with this Letter (said Francisco, pulling out the Copy:)  
Emilius to the fair Lovisa.  
IF you have not Cruelly resolved my Death (thou dear unequalled Charmer) grant me an hour when my longing Eyes may gaze without Control; where I may throw me at the feet of my adorable, and say a thousand thousand tender things, that Love, like mine, inspires. I do not ask a pitying word, or a kind look, in answer to my sighs; I only beg a hearing, that sure the nicest Virtue will allow; since Virtue guides, and honour dictates every Wish that fills the heart of your poor wounded Slave  
Emilius.  
Lovisa was hard to be prevailed on, for this private interview; but the faithful Count pleaded, with so much Zeal, for his Amorous Friend, that the fair one almost compelled, yielded; and gave Emilius leave, after his formal good night, to return with Bileront a back way; into her Closet. Lovisa also brought the Partner of her heart, a dear loved Friend. When the Prince came, the Lady and Bileront retired to the farther end of the Closet. Could any Man win a heart only with the silent Language of the Eyes, sure 'twas Emilius; for, in his, Lovisa might plainly read Sparkling Joy, for the permission she had given him to see her; yet intermixed with so much awe, and fear; that the charming confusion showed, her love had taught him, to forget he e'er was born a Prince. And Ambition's Lessons prompted him no farther, than to become her Slave. His words were soft as flakes of falling Snow, his person lovely; who then can blame that charming Maid, if she forgot her rigour, and heard, with pleasure. He kneeled, and snatched her beauteous hand, and printed these his Vows. He said, he loved her more, much more than Life. Oh! (went he on) were all the pleasures of my past Years crammed into one happy hour, 'twould not reach the least part of the Raptures, this blessed Moment gives; this dear important Now. If then to have but one Minute, when I dare call you Mine, fills my Heart with such Content; what would a Week, what would a Year, an Age? Oh I fear the Cordial would prove too strong; and I should die with Joy. These Imaginary Visions (returns Lovisa gravely) exceed Love's real Joys. Love, like a Course Picture set in an advantageous light, at distance we admire, and gaze with wonder, but when nearer to our view, a hundred unthought of faults appear; and the imperfect daubings seen. Ah! No; there's nothing but perfection here, cried he transported, and grasping her hand) I long, (said he, looking earnestly on her) to break Conditions. I promised not to ask a look or word of pity, yet my Soul is on the Rack, to know how your heart is towards me. If constant love can ever gain admittance there; if you can ever feel a warmth; I do not hope that it will burn and rage's like mine. I must not, dare not hear you (Lovisa stops him) yet I am well; but who knows not, 'tis dangerous, Prince, listening to words like these. Why (said Emilius in a moving tone;) where lies the danger? Heaven grant they prove infectious; and you Catch but the same pleasing Fever possesses me. If I should (returns Lovisa blushing) if I should (not that I do incline my Ear, to the soft story of your Love) place you first in my esteem, and suffer my Virgin thoughts sometimes to be employed on you; and after this, an offered Princess (state interest) takes you from me: where should I hid my blushing face? For then, not Angels Eloquence should e'er persuade me to behold false men again. Emilius answered with Vehemence, By all my hopes, were there an Empress, who brought the conquered World her dower; and beautiful as painted Deity; me she would not move. You do not know Emilius, nor Punishments, nor Pleasures prevail, when I am resolved. Lovisa would hear no more, nor could she force him from her, till he obtained a Promise, in a little time, to receive the same favour, such another Audience; and that procured another. In short, the Prince, a thousand ways, so tenderly expressed his Love, that Lovisa was content he should discover his Passion was not disagreeable, that her Sentiments were kind; though Nicety denied her words to express it.  
Mean time, Count Lodowick laid close Siege; the Duchess thought it a good Match; her Uncle pressed her hard on his behalf; but she was deaf to all; nor had scarce Patience to obey the Duchess, in letting him see her; Yet this disturbed Emilius; he hated, Lodowick should view her, with such greedy Eyes; or have the privilege to Visit her alone. As he was one Night in Lovisa's Closet, complaining of this, that fair one chid him, and said, She feared he was naturally Jealous; since he saw Lodowick was her aversion, and that all she did was by compulsion, yet still he was displeased. 'Tis that compulsion, answered the Prince, with a sigh, I fear; if you should be forced to Marry him (Heaven avert that thought!) what would then become of wretched me? No, No, My Lord (returned Lovisa) though I am not a Man, yet I am Mistress of such resolutions, that I'll never Marry Lodowick. There is one way (said the Prince kneeling, and turning pale, for fear of Angering her) one way secures my fears, and makes me blest above all humane kind. What's that, says Lovisa, surprised? I dare not tell you'll promise not (returns the Prince) unless you'll promise not to be displeased, nor think that I presumed too far, and make too bold a Suit, encouraged by the favours I to your pity owe. Since I know, said Lovisa, (with a reserved look) Prince Emilius will not ask, but what's within the strictest Rules of Honour; I give you free liberty to speak. Emilius trembled as he spoke, and clasping her loved Knees, Would you, said he, but let the Priest before these two (pointing to the aforementioned Lady and Billeront, who were in the Closet) join our hands, knit that Sacred Knot, which only Death unties; then all my fears would be removed. Know you the raging temper of the Duke (saith Lovisa, raising him) and ask you this without his consent, or knowledge? No, let it suffice, I ne'er will be another's; and let us wait till fate will smile, and Crown our Wishes without danger.  
Then my fair Life will venture nothing on the score of Love, when I'd forego a Crown for her (said he passionately) Oh! satisfy my fears; give me but the Marriage Vow; I'll beg no more: At this awful distance still remain; nor offer at the Crown of all my Joys, your Bed, till the Fate, you speak of, smiles; till there's not the least shadow of a danger. Lovisa told him, she durst not resolve on a thing of such a Consequence, lest he, or she, or both hereafter should repent; but against the next meeting she would consider, and bade him rest assured, all Lodowick's Efforts were vain. A few days after this there happened a sad accident which altered the face of all things, in that Court; the Eldest Prince of Parma died suddenly, of an Imposthume. You may imagine the fright and confusion the Court was in; and that decency confined Emilius to his Closet; yet in the midst of his Grief, he was not unmindful of his Love; but sent Bileront, with a Letter, which contained these words.  
Emilius to his Dearest Life Lovisa.  
THE Lamented untimely Fate of the departed Prince, my Brother, fills my Soul with Grief; and that I may not have a Glimpse of Joy; I dare not yet see my fairest Mistress. But, Oh! Believe, Lovisa, no vicissitude of Fortune has power to lessen Love. My Death only ends the Passion vowed by  
Yours Emilius.  
A short Postscript begged a line to bless his Solitude: She taking her Pen, while Bileront stayed, wrote thus:  
Lovisa to the Prince Emilius.  
AH! Prince! why do you still persist in my Undoing: the distance was too great before, now the Ducal Crown hangs near your Brow: Court Glory, that's the Brighter Mistress; and gives Reward beyond the Power of  
Poor Lovisa.  
The Prince was tenderly touched with the kind Doubts of his Beloved, and in a short time visited her, renewed his ardent Vows of Constancy, and Endless Faith. Whilst Lodowick, whose Glass told him he was not Unhandsome; who Danced well, Dressed well, had all the Perfections of a Young, Empty, Airy Courtier; and Master of a vast Estate; raged to be Repulsed in his first Amour. One day he grew so importunate to know the Cause of her Aversion; that she resented it; and told him sharply, he was Troublesome; and were it not for the Commands of those, whom Reverence taught her to Obey; she had, long e'er that, forbidden him her sight. He Answered warmly, with an Air too haughty for a Lover: I see too well your scorn; but I fain would find (what 'tis said, we can't in Woman) a Reason for't. Is your heart made of that impenetrable Mould, that Sighs and Prayers are vain Batteries; or doth some hidden happy Youth rob me of my desired Prize? She blushed at that, and he observed it. Ah! 'tis so; (went he on) your conscious Blushes reveal it. If I blush (returned she, with a look full of Anger and Disdain) 'tis at your Rudeness. Go— You are Insolent! Durst your concealed Lover call me so (said he, throughly nettled;) I could Answer him. As he spoke the last words Emilius entered, and hearing 'em so loud, he stopped. When Lodowick turned to go away, Emilius came up to him, and looking fiercely on him, said, Is this like a Man of Honour, to be Noisy in a Lady's Chamber! I say 'tis Insolent, and Brutal.— Now your Answer you threatened— Not to my Country's Heir (returned he, Bowing) nor dare I contend for a Jewel, my Prince lays Claim to. Soon as he had said this, he went out. Ah! what have you done? (Cried Lovisa, looking with a Melancholy sweetness on him) this flies like Lightning, through the Court, and I must never see you more! Never see me more (answered he eagerly) Oh! I must ever see you; nor can it be concealed! My Eyes, my Tongue betray it. How often, unawares, I start; mistaking every Name for yours! My longing looks devour your Charms; my Sighs redouble at your sight; and every Motion shows the Fires of my Soul! Oh! I'll cast me at my Obdurate Father's Feet; nor leave his Sacred Knee, till he has given you to my Wishes. Flatter not yourself with vain Ideas (said she, sadly;) The Duke, I know, will never yield; and my Foreboding Heart whispers, this is the last time we e'er shall meet in Peace.  
Am I thus Blest (cried the Transported Prince) to perceive such a concern at the detested Thoughts of Parting! My, once severe, but now more Charming Fair! What shall I say, or how Express my Joys! Lovisa, who had hastily discovered more of her Heart, than she designed; felt her lovely Face glow with Blushes; and walking from the Prince, a great Glass more plainly showed her this disorder. Emilius following, smiled to see the becoming Confusion that Excellent Maid was in. And forgetting that it was the public Room of State, and the hour of Visiting; Caught her hand, and kissed it with a happy Lover's Ardency; whilst two or three Ladies entered. The equal surprise of that Amorous Pair, confirmed it to be more than a common piece of Gallantry. However the Ladies, out of Respect, took no notice of it there; but once removed, the Blaze was set abroad which Lodowick began; and it was grown the only News the Court was full of. Every Body had got the story, Prince Emilius Adored Lovisa; and happy was she could first Communicate it to her Friend. The Duke was last informed, because all loved the Prince, and feared his being displeased. At length an old Courtier, one who had lived even past the remembrance of his Youth, thought this Match inconvenient, and politicly resolved to tell him. He heard the Relation with a fierceness beyond that which his own rugged nature gave. Unthinking, Unambitious Boy! said he (just as the other finished) have I, for this, with pains obtained to bless his Nuptial Bed with Isabel, the wealthy Princess of Mantua; and doth the idle Slave to his Passions, worship the fading Beauties of a Bauble; whilst the choicest Jewel of a Crown is offered? With this, he flew to the Apartment of the Duchess. His Eyes carried Rage, that every cringing Courtier shrunk into a Corner; and durst not meet their Fury. The mild, and ever gentle Duchess, trembled at his sight, before she heard the story. When with Frowns ushering in his words, he thus began: You, Madam, I suppose, have fondled up your Son to this, like a true Mother; but unlike my Wife indulged his humours, till inevitable ruin has got within his grasp. Nor would you yet cry hold! rather than your Child should grow uneasy, give it the Poison. I thought your Son haunted your Apartments not to learn the Rudiments of Honour; they are seldom to be found amongst the Women! Alas, my Lord! (interrupts him the Affrighted Duchess) I know not what you mean! No, no; (went he on) you have not connived, nay, perhaps, desired that Rebellious Boy Emilius, to make Love to your fair Favourite Lovisa! But, mark me, Madam! For by Heaven I swear, let this be remedied, or you will find the consequence will give you cause to tremble! I know the Maid is Virtuous (said that good Lady, with all imaginable Mildness;) her Birth is Noble, since her Blood is mixed with yours: but, that my Son, or Loves, or Courts her, witness the Heaven you swore by, I know not. My Blood! (replies he, all enraged) the stream has run too far; and all that's Royal is lost! But were she my Brother's Daughter, and a Bar to my designs made me retrench my words, or promise given: Cloister, or Death should force the stubborn Girl; and set the way clear before me. Therefore I charge you, School your Son, and dispose of her; else I, who have been the Partner of your Bed these Thirty Years, will ever after prove a Stranger and a Foe! This said, he left the weeping Duchess.  
Poor Emilius was just going to his Mother, there to open all his heart; and beg her kind Assistance to mollify his Father. He sent Bileront before humbly to pray the Duchess; she would, in her Cabinet, hear him on a subject, that was to him important. Bileront straight returned, and told the expecting Prince, the Duke was gone thither with an angry Brow. Emilius feared the worst, and stayed concealed till the Duke returned; then going to the Duchess, in her melting Eyes, he reads his Fate; and stood a while . That sweet Princess no sooner beheld her Son look so pale, and deeply sad, but her Tears increased. For the Duke had rightly charged her in that particular: She excelling most Mothers in Fondness. The Prince first broke silence; and respectfully asked her, if he might know what his Father had done, to cause those Sorrows? First Answer me (says the Mourning Duchess) are you so Unhappy to love Lovisa? Pardon me, my Mother (said Emilius in a moving tone) nor call me Unhappy, in loving, and being beloved, by that Virtuous, all-deserving, Noblest Maid! This Declaration touched the Duchess nearly; and she, word for word, told that despairing Prince, what his Incensed Father had sworn. Therefore (added that Wise, yet tender Mother) quit thou thy unauspicious Love, before the threatened storm comes on: it hangs just breaking o'er our Heads; and if thou persist, falls upon all. Quit my Love! (answers the Prince passionately) Ah! Madam! E'er you resolve to be obeyed, please to hear, how great a Villain you would make your then abject Son! Lovisa, most perfect of her Sex, by nature reserved and cold, unapt to Love; One, who lays not out her wondrous stock of Charms, to catch at Hearts; but declines her modest Eyes; nor Triumphs, nor rejoices in her Conquests. This I saw, and loved her for't; pursued her with a Passion violent and unfeigned: I sighed, I kneeled, I prayed; nay, quite Unmanned, I even Wept before her. She saw, I joyed in nothing but her sight: My altered Face showed the pangs, my aching heart endured. Moved at last, she kindly healed my Suffering with gentle pity. And shall I quit the dear relenting Saint? I, who drew her to love's bewitching Mischiefs, against her Inclinations, almost forcing her tender heart, guarded with an aversion to Mankind, now shall I quit her? Oh! never! sooner I'd quit my Birthright, turn Lunatic, Naked travail the inhospitable World; feel first the distracting grief needs must seize my Dear one, should I prove so basely Wicked to forsake her? Leave me (said that tormented Mother) for this but increases the Woe, that my heart is already too full of. The Duchess seeing the Prince thus obstinate, resolves to try a gentler subject. He being gone, she sent a Page of Honour, to call Lovisa to her. That Noble Maid had heard nothing of these Disturbances; and readily obeyed; entering the Cabinet with a cheerful Countenance. But when she saw the Duchess' sorrow, her heart sunk downwards, and she appeared just such another Statue, as the Unfortunate Emilius did before. Come near, my Charming Charge (said the Disconsolate Duchess;) thy dying Mother left thee to my Care. Have I not been careful of thee? Speak boldly, Lovisa, and accuse me if I utter any untruth! Royal Madam (answered the kneeling fair) were I to recount the Favours you have done, and I received, long hours would unheeded pass; and yet the obliging story not half be finished. Here, near your own Apartments, Lodged, Honoured, Loved, and smiled upon, as if I had been your Daughter. Rise (replied the Duchess) and if your Soul is grateful, now's the time that you, by one great Act, may Cancel all these Obligations, and leave me eternally your Debtor. Then conclude it done (returned Lovisa) were it to Sacrifice the quiet of my future days, I'd live myself in Torment to give my Princess Ease. My Son— Nay blush not my Lovisa, I know it all, nor, were I disposer of his Fate, would hinder the Alliance. Thy Beauty, and Brighter Virtue, deserves a Crown; deserves Emilius: But, Oh! his Father, whose Rage like Madness, cursed with Power, knows no Bounds; whilst the poor Youth fixed to thy Charms, and fond to Death of Thee, never will Obey. Think then the end of this Rebellion's Murder; thy ravaged Country's Bowels torn; Thou the fatal Helen that sets the World on Fire. Reply not (went the Duchess on) I know you did not foresee all this, when first Emilius, with a Lover's Eagerness, breathed his warm sighs around you, wooed to the sweets of Love— Thou Weepst, Lovisa, and I pity thee; I myself have felt thy Sorrows; torn from my Virgin Wishes; Compelled by Parents to wed this Duke; I took my reason to aid, and time overcame it; so may you, if you will hotly strive. Instruct me, Madam, (all drowned in tears, Lovisa cried) Instruct me, Madam, for I am at a loss. The Heart of my Emilius is Heroick (said the Duchess) and force is lost upon him: 'tis you only have Power to charm him to Obedience. Take then your choice, be greater than a Sovereign Princess; Rule your Passions, let your looks deny what's acting in your heart; and tell Emilius, that your altered Soul abhors his Love; else unite with my Unhappy Son, and meet destructive ruin both. Lovisa wiping her fair Eyes, and looking as if she could accuse the cruel Powers: No— the Prince shall not for me be ruined; at least I'll do my best, he shan't (said she.) To morrow, with your Highness' leave, I'll see him; and after that, I hope, you'll have no just cause to blame me. Go, my best Girl, (returned the Duchess) and as an earnest of thy truth, see not my Son to night; I know he'll long to tell thee all his Woes, but listen not to the sad story, 'twill melt thy best resolve, and leave thee Spiritless. Lovisa took her leave, and promised the Duchess what she desired. At the usual hour, Distressed Emilius sent Count Bileront the well known way to gain admittance to his Beloved; but was surprised when he brought him back word, she was not to be seen; not well, and gone to Bed. Not well; and gone to Bed (repeated the Prince) return, my Friend, and tell her I have Business of Importance. Oh! she has heard the Unlucky Story; and now, in Anger will not see me! Tell her I am Innocent; tell her I cannot live beneath my Griefs, unless the dear sight of her support me. To please the Prince, that faithful Friend went, and came again with the same Answer. The Prince was vexed, only he comforted himself, that, if she would not see him privately, he before the World, resolved to profess his Endless Love. Next day, as he and Bileront were walking in the private Grove, his surprise was augmented, when Lovisa's Page accosted them, and said his Lady desired instantly to speak with them both. As they crossed the Court which leads to Lovisa's Lodgings, the Prince observed her Coach and Attendance stand ready. His Heart misgave him, though he knew not why. When they came up, they found her sitting in her Closet, with her fair Friend, who was always her loved Companion; both dressed in Habits for a Journey. Lovisa's Eyes were full of Majesty and Resolution. Love, overawed durst not peep, nor show a beam of pity. I sent for you (began the Life of all Emilius' Joys, in a tone far different from the usual sweetness:) I sent for you here before these two the constant Witnesses of all our Follies past; to give you back your Vows, to free you from the luckless Chains you chose. Recall your ill-placed Love, the hasty error of your Youth, and think of it no more. Emilius viewed her with a piercing air, and falling at her feet; the posture his humble Love had often used him to: In vain, said he, in vain you give me back, what I can never take. What have I done? Why am I doubly punished, with my Father's frowns, and yours? When I, but in thought, consent to what he offers, may some God to you reveal that thought; and may you then for ever, justly look as cruelly as now. I stand prepared (said Lovisa) for all that you can say, foreseeing the horrid ills that may accrue, if we should follow the blind tract, rash, inconsiderate Love would lead us. Therefore, obey your Father, Espouse the Princess Isabel— Ha! (begun the Prince) I beg you— interrupt me not (went she on) If you'll do this, I instantly will go and remain with my Uncle, Don Alvarez, till this discourse, which buzzes thus in every busy Mouth, is hushed. I'll still preserve you in my heart; I'll see you when I may with honour; and my Friendship shall excel vulgar Love— Yet I have not done (she perceiving him go to speak) if you agree not to what I've said, at least consent; then I, this very moment, will drive directly to St. Clare, the next adjacent Monastery, be strait immured, Probation year and all; nor will I ever hear, see, or, if possible, think of Emilius more. Do not hope Prayers or Tears can stir me— May Poverty, Diseases, loss of Fame attend me, if one jot I vary or change from what I've vowed! This is not sure, the ever gentle Goddess, I thus long have Worshipped (said the Prince with Eyes all languishing) some Tygress hath usurped the Face of my Adorable; and formed those cruel words, I last have heard! Lovisa rising, and making a sign to the other Lady, who was to go with her, to be ready, hastily catching hold of her Gown, Lovisa, (says he) my Life! See, Bileront! See! How have I Dreamt! not worth a Look! a Sigh, a parting Word to think upon! Ah, Prince! (returned that Self-constraining Maid) should I give the Deluge way, it would overwhelm me! Go, inexorable, go; (said the Prince, letting lose his hold) my Death I'm sure you'll bear as Unconcerned as this! For I feel greater Pangs, than bitterest Death could bring; though dressed in new invented Tortures; exceeding all the old. Oh! Wrong me not (said she passionately) to that degree! Believest thou I am unconcerned? Oh! No! I share thy Agony, my Dear; my loved Emilius! Take from my Arms, the first, the last Embrace, that e'er you'll receive from your Lovisa! He clasped her to his heart, and would have spoke, but stifling Joys overcame, and left him almost Breathless on her Bosom: When, she, fearing her Virgin Modesty had yielded too far, worked by the Prince's Sorrows, and her Love; started from his Arms; and, swift as an Arrow, passed the Chambers towards the Coach. Scarce could Bileront, and ' the Lady overtake her.  
Thus Lovisa left the Court of Parma, and went directly towards the Palace of her Uncle Don Alvarez, which was many Leagues from thence. When Bileront had put her into the Coach, he returned to the Prince; who, like one stupefied, leaned against a Cabinet. Bileront roused him, and begged he'd go; because the Servants would observe him. He, by his Friend's persuasion, almost insensibly removed from her Closet to his own; then throwing himself upon the Floor, he said all a violent despair could prompt. Prince's harder brook to have their wishes crossed than other Men; their Birth, their Education flatter 'em; the World was made for them. Emimilius was young, his desires fierce, his Mistress fair; and, what pierced deepest, willing, on Honourable Terms, to grant the longed for Bliss. The old Duke, who thought a great point gained in Lovisa's being removed; left him to himself a while, in hopes he'd Conquer these Reluctancies, and prove Obedient: but he, wholly given up to Melancholy, found the Passionate Thoughts, that possessed his Love sick Mind, too entertaining to be dismissed. His Cabinet and Closet-walks, where none but Faithful Bileront gained admittance, took up most of his hours. When he was forced to appear, his Eyes carried the marks of his discontent; his words were few, and spoken, as if his Mind was still on something else.  
The Duke perceiving Emilius indulged his Passion, and yielded to his Bonds, instead of struggling to get lose, sent for him, and beginning mildly said, I well hoped, my Son, that before this, reduced by reason, you would have acknowledged your Failings; rendered me just Gratitude, in a thankful Obedience.— Open your blinded Eyes, and view the dazzling glory of an Illustrious Birth, and Royal Fortune. Is a subject to be preferred to Her? Far be it from me (replied the Prince, respectfully) to derogate from the Princess of Mantua: She may be, for aught I know, a Miracle. Would my Royal Father permit me not to enjoy my Wishes, that were too mighty for my hopes; only leave me but free from others, as I am debarred from her I love: That's the humble All I ask!  
This was not what the Duke expected; and as it was constraint on him, to make use of Mildness, like a Bow bend backwards, he impetuously returns to Rage. Says he (looking sternly) Am I to be thus dallied with, Foolish Boy? Prepare to Execute what I Command, with readiness; lest my Resentment, great as thy Folly, reach thee! An Extraordinary Ambassador is now dispatching, with my last Orders for the Court of Mantua; I'll send the Articles to be by you perused, and expect your Letters; Letters fit for Emilius to write, and Isabella to receive. ' Command my Life, (Answers that Afflicted Prince, kneeling) and without a murmur, I'll Obey. Alas! Sir, I respect the Princess Isabel more than you; I would not betray her to Faithless Arms, where she must ever meet with Coldness, Neglect, nay Hatred, instead of Conjugal Affection. Thou stubborn Fool (retorts the Duke, in a furious tone) born for my Curse, and thy own Undoing!— but I shall find a way, at least, to Plague thee, if thou dar'st refuse the offered Blessing. By Heaven!— I'll have thy Mistress Poisoned, or else tried for a Witch, and so Condemned! Her Sorceries have ruined thee! Dost thou not fear me! As I am a Man, (replied the Prince, rising and looking with a becoming Bravery) and (whated yet more) your Son; my Soul has still a stranger been to fear! heap tortures on my disobedient Head! Cast me from your sight, and Throne: nought that's Unmanly; nought that's Seditious shall appear in all my Sufferings. With Patience, I'll renounce all the glorious Honours that my Birth provides; forsaking all at your Command: all but my Unhappy Love; whom I am sure, what e'er you have said, you will not wrong. Prince's should not extend their Power to hurt the Innocent, or force their Laws Interpreters to find out Crimes where there are none; and punish where they should reward! Go from my sight (cries the Angry Duke!) Blot and Contagion of my Blood!— And if thou dost not Repent, and with my Will comply; unheard of Curses o'er take you!— You, and your dear Destruction, Lovisa!  
The Lords, that saw the Prince pass through the Antichambers, from his Father, perceived additional Vexations in his Face. Many, who loved him, would have followed; but he forbade them all, and entered his Cabinet alone.  
Bileront no sooner heard of his new Discontents; but making use of what the Prince's Favour had allowed, a Key he had of the Closet; without Commission ventured to disturb him. Good Heavens! what sorrows touched that Compassionate Lord; when he beheld the same Hero, whom he had seen foremost Charge the Turkish Troops, and last Retreat; now extended on the ground; giving way to Griefs scarce fit to be recited of the great Emilius! See here (said he, casting his sad Eyes on Bileront) the destined Bridegroom! the destined slave! the People's Property! Who for their pretended Interest, and a cruel Father's Arbitrary Will, must be, for ever, joined to what he hates; and lose the Brightest Blessing, the softest Good, that e'er Adorned the World! Many, and tender were the Complaints Emilius poured into the Bosom of his loved Friend; who comforted him with all the sweetness faithful Friendship could Inspire.  
Next day, the Duke sent the Articles of Marriage to his Son; with Command that he should examine them, and return his Answer. But Emilius absolutely refused to look upon 'em. This gave fresh Rage to the already Incensed Duke; and he resolved the Duchess should not lose her share of the vexation. Again he storms at her; reiterates the cruel Vows of deep Revenge; whilst that Distressed Lady seeks to her loved Son in vain; who only Answers her Entreaties with far fetched Sighs, and looks of wild despair. She writes to Lovisa; and conjures her to study some means to oblige Emilius to yield.  
The retired Lovisa, who possessed her fill of Melancholy (though her Indulgent Uncle, fond as a Father, studied to divert her) received this Letter, as the extended Malice of her Fate, that knew no end. And, far from joying at the Prince's Constancy, wept at the Mischiefs her resistless Eyes had caused. Lovisa knew Emilius was not naturally stubborn or Disobedient; therefore in the movingest terms her Soul could dictate; (her desire and wishes for his real Good o'ercoming Love) she writ to him.  
The Prince might more properly be said to be Immured, than Retired. For he permitted none to see him, except Bileront, and Servants, just necessary to wait on him. The Duchess first received Lovisa's Letter; and having perused it was pleased. She Sealed it again, and gave it Bileront to deliver.  
When Emilius saw Lovisa's hand, he kissed it eagerly; and transported, cried, What Summons hath my Goddess sent? Has she kindly reversed my Doom; and given me leave to share her Banishment? Oh! Bileront (went he on, his Eyes sparkling with the same Passion, his heart was full of) Methinks I could do wonders for my Love, would she consent! With her, fly the ri●●●urs of an Inexorable Father! Fly Ungrateful Parma! And in some peaceful Corner of the Globe, fix my unimitable Fair; whilst for the loss of Crowns, Glory, Ambition, All, bewitching, dear, delightful Love makes up, and far excels. He opened the Letter, and Bileront saw his Countenance alter, as he read it; that short Beam of Joy which so lately shone through his Face, Eclipsed with blacker Clouds of sadness, than before. Read, my Lord, said the Prince, for sure my Eyes, only used to sorrow, transform the words of Kindness into Cruelty; even from her.  
Lovisa to the Prince Emilius.  
WHen will my Malignant Stars have shed their Baneful Venom? Remorseless Heaven! Must I with Justice complain of Emilius? Must he become my greatest Persecutor? And, by his cruel Obstinacy, draw down the Curses of late Posterity upon me? Will no Retirement but a Monastery, though never so remote, prove an Asylum for this Tortured Wretch? I've cause to think you wish me in a Cloister! Now Prince, you shall have your desire! Conclude, within few days, I am a Votaress! Since you dislike the offers I made at parting; since my Eternal Love promised as far as Honour would allow, on the Condition of your Obedience, is not acceptable: My next Task shall be, to banish you my Heart! This is the last unalterable Resolve of  
The Unfortunate Lovisa.  
After Bileront had ended the Letter, the Prince remained half an hour silent; then rising hastily from the Couch, where he had thrown himself, he took his Pen and wrote; and giving it to his Favourite, bid him carry it to the Duchess; saying, he supposed Lovisa's Letter came by her Approbation; and he hoped she would like the Answer. Bileront did as Commanded, and the Duchess found these words.  
Emilius to Lovisa.  
Banished Lovisa's Heart! That's a punishment I cannot bear: Believe me, Madam, I'd sooner choose to Reign Absolute Monarch there, than over half the Universe. But since the unrelenting Fates deny, rather than be totally Expelled, give me that cold Corner allowed for Friendship. Change your unjust Design of Quitting the World, as I must do the happy Name of your Adorer; to that of  
Your Eternal Friend and Servant, Emilius.  
Think you my Son is real in this, said the Duchess; I know not, Madam, (answered that young Lord) Indeed, in my Opinion, his looks discover a new Resolution. The Duchess dispatched away her Letter; and strait put the Duke upon sending the Articles again to the Prince; which he did; and Emilius immediately signed them; and said his Letters to the Princess, should be ready, in a day or two. He appeared publicly, looked pleasantly; and all, except Bileront, thought the Alteration unfeigned. The eyes of Friendship, next to Love, are the most Prying. Bileront alone observed his stolen Sighs; and those Absences of Mind, which so oft possessed him. And meeting him opportunely, he with a concerned obliging Air, began. What Breach of Faith have I been guilty of; wherein offended, that my Loved Royal Master hides from me his Soul; conceals from me, as well as all the World, the Griefs that Pray upon his Noble Heart! Griefs (replied the Prince Ironically) I've none; Am I not to Marry the Infanta! There, Beauty, Wealth and Merit join to Bless my future Reign. Ah! Prince (returned Bileront) why will you use your Faithful servant thus? I would not press, nor wish to know your secret thoughts, but only in hopes to assist, to serve you. Be satisfied (said the Prince, going towards some Company, he saw:) I conceal nothing from you, or if I do; 'tis because I'll not Involve my Friend in the inevitable Woes, ordained for me. Bileront, could not answer then; but he resolved to Watch him. That night Letters for Isabel were to be delivered to the Duke; on the Pretext of writing them, Emilius dismissed his Attendance; and shutting himself up in his Closet, said, when his writing was over, he'd sleep the remaining part of the Night, upon his Couch. Bileront, who heard these Orders, hid himself behind a lose piece of hanging, till the servants were all gone. Then stealing along, he softly Unlocked the Closet Door. The Prince was writing, though not to Isabel; he heard Bileront stir and turning with a furious Aspect, asked who was there! That Faithful Lord, affrighted to see his Prince look so stern, cast himself at his Feet; and, with Tears, implored he might share his Fate. For (said he) I'm sure you have determined to abandon Parma, rather than your Fair Mistress. The Prince could not but be sensibly touched to see the sincere Affection of the Count; and Raising him, said with a sigh, why wilt thou not with Fortune, leave the Wretched lost Emilius? I am a Bark, that's bound for sure Destruction! All near must share the Tempest; and meet the Face of horrid Ruin! Did I like a Coward, (Answered Bileront) start from your side in War; that I am now Discarded? No, No! (returned Emilius) nor did I then Deny thy Going. Alas, Alas! It is not now the Field of Honour, Emilius seeks! Lethargic Love hath seized my Soul; and in a Cell I mean to Dream away my Life! Endeavour not dissuading me (went he on) showing him a Cordelier's Habit; near these, the only Robes, that I shall ever wear, a Dagger lies; if I'm prevented, that sends me to a long Eternal Sleep! Therefore, if, out of Zeal to my advantage, as thou thinkest it, this gets air, before I am passed their reach, they take me dead, my Bileront, unalterable truth is in my words; thou may'st believe me. I do believe (said that Troubled Confident;) and only beg to participate. I can brook the solitude of a Cell, as well as my dear Lord; nay the Court would seem to me a Desert, were you absent. No; by our past Friendship, I conjure you, stay (returns the Prince) on that condition, I'll, to you alone, unfold what I've designed. I'm informed, near the Palace of Don Alvarez, there stands a Monastery of the Cordelier's, thither I direct my steps; speak once to my Lovisa; then leaving Parma, Embark for France; and in some Cloister, I best shall like, end my wretched Days. I tell you this (continued he, with a resolved Countenance) and you know, what I have sworn, if you discover it. I am not used to falter or break my word, therefore, Dear Bileront, now retire. I'll send you word of my abode in France; and shall accept a Visit kindly. Bileront saw it then in vain to dissuade him, and having learned where he went, designing to follow him, said nothing against it; only asked him, how he thought to get admittance amongst the Fathers. That Contrivance is Comical enough (returns the Prince; forcing a smile) for I have here (showing him a Letter) with my own Hand and Signet, recommended myself, as a Friar of my Acquaintance. I have also a Compound to turn my Complexion Yellow; and a Powder to black my Eyebrows. All is ready; the Letter for the Duke my Father, and the Duchess; whose troubles for this concern me nearest. Once more, my Faithful Friend, Farewell, said he, Embracing Bileront; who unwillingly left him; satisfied in nothing, but his design to see him again before he parted from the Monastery of the Cordeliers. He gone, the Prince, about three a Clock in the Morning, taking the Habit with him, lest any of the Sentry, seeing him like a Cordelier, should give Information, when the hunt was made for him. He passed unobserved; or if any did see him, he was so used to walk early, and alone, that there was no notice taken of it. The first Thicket he reached, he pulled off his own Upper , and put on the Vestments of a Friar, and tying a stone to his Coat, threw it into an adjacent River. You know, my Illustrious Auditors, (said Francisco) Emilius is a very Fair Man, his Eyes sweet, and his Hair very light; to alter which, he took his Compound, and washing his Face, and delicate Hands in it; appeared just of a Sunburnt Yellow. Then blacking his Kickshaws, he looked so changed, his most intimate Friends could not have known him. He had put up a considerable quantity of Gold; so, the first conveniency of riding he met with, he made use of; and passed securely; not so much as hearing any inquiry made after him. Being arrived at the Cloister, and showing Prince Emilius' Letter, the good Fathers received him with infinite Civility. They observed him Melancholy, and unwilling to speak; and, out of Respect; asked him few Questions. He saw the Turrets of Don Alvarez's Palace; and after a repast had refreshed him, he could not forbear ask one of the Fathers to walk. He chose to go that way; and when near the House, the Palpitation of his Heart informed him how Dear Lovisa was. He asked the Father, who that Palace belonged to; and being answered, as he expected, to Don Alvarez: I was told (said he) Don Alvarez was your Neighbour, and have a Message from the Prince to him, which I design to Morrow to deliver. We have a nearer way than this (said the Friar) which leads us from our Orchard-Walls, through his Groves of Oranges and Jessamin, to his door. This pleased the Prince, and he soon retired; all Night revolving in his Love-possessed Mind, how he should speak with Lovisa alone. He, at length, concludes to deliver a Letter, as from Emilius to Alvarez; wherein the Prince should desire him to let the Cordelier speak alone with Lovisa. Wished Morning being come, our Royal Cordelier risen, and being by one of the Society directed, entered those Fragrant Groves: whose sweets, wafted by the early breeze, would have Banqueted Senses, less employed; but Emilius thought on nothing but Lovisa. When he was got pretty near the Gates of the House, he heard a Clock strike Four; which as it were awaked him out of his Contemplation; and made him consider, how improper a time it was, to disturb a Nobleman's Family. This thought turned him again into the Grove, and seeking out of the direct path, some Grotto suitable to his Melancholy, he observed a part of the Grove enclosed; which looked extreme shady; he, without much trouble, got over this Enclosure, and found the thick gloomy shade, dark as he could wish. Vast aged Trees formed the grand Walk; whose high meeting tops, and straight Trunks, looked Majestic; and a Myrtle Hedge grew thick and even about their Roots, which added to the Beauty of the Place. Behind this Hedge, upon high Grass, Emilius threw himself along. His Anxious Thoughts, those usual Torments, a while employed him; till Nature's Reliever, soft refreshing sleep, the effect of restless Nights, seized him. This proved the very walk Lovisa loved; nor had the Prince reposed long, before the Voice of that perpetual Object of his Soul waked him. He found 'twas she, and her Companion: Love made him curious to listen if their discourse related to him; and concealing himself, he heard the Lady, that was with her say, When, Madam, will these Destructive Griefs leave your disconsolate hours. You eat the fond Endearments of your Uncle, that you may take your fill alone of heart-breaking sorrow: Your Eyes have lost their wont Vigour; and your lovely Cheeks, like gathered Roses, Fade; and in their prime, forsake their Native Lustre. You promised, when the Prince obeyed his Father, and instead of burning Love, embraced cool Friendship: You would mourn no more. His Letter assures you this is done; yet I behold no alteration. Still the days are tedious, and the Nights are worse. When (I beg to know!) will your Woes have End? With my Life (answered that Sighing Afflicted Fair.) Though, witness ye Powers (said she, looking up;) who, with ease can view the inmost Recesses of my Soul; and plainly see what's Acted there: Witness, I say, if I not rejoice, that Prince Emilius to Duty, and to Reason yields; quitting the Weight, the Burden insupportable of Blind impetuous Passion; that sinks Lovisa down to Ruin. Mutual Love creates a pleasing Habitude of Joy; wherein the Mind transcendently is Blessed: and which Time, that with Oblivion buries all things, can scarce blot out. 'Twas not with ease the Usurper got Possession here (went she on; pointing to her Heart) nor will he be with ease dislodged. All the Sighs and Tears it cost Emilius to gain this Virgin Heart, to bind it in the Enchanting Chains of Tyrannic Love; I must, with Interest, pay back, e'er I can set the Throbbing Prisoner free. Perhaps i' th' Conflict too the Rebel, engaged too far, may break. I have also a part of Falsehood to Act: Thinkest thou continued she, looking on her Companion;) I design never to see Emilius more? No, no: spite of the Promises, wherewith I've flattered him; soon as he is happy in the Arms of Isabel; the Cloister, to which I've only seemed averse, hides me for ever. The Prince, who could no longer bear his Mistress should think him guilty of breaking Vows, he left a Crown to keep, met her at the end of the walk, and falling at her Feet, he Embraced her Knees, and said, If Lovisa never became a Recluse, till Emilius is happy in the Arms of Isabel, the Church will lose its Fairest Votary. Who can express the surprise of Lovisa and the other Lady! The Voice was the Prince's, but the Face, the Habit, contradicted that thought. Heavens! (cried Lovisa, in raising him) it cannot be Prince Emilius! Why should my Life (said he; looking passionately on her) wonder at the Metamorphosis? Was this the hardest Task my cruel Love enjoined; My Fate reversed, I should only talk of Joys and Blessings. Ah! Prince, (said Lovisa in a moving tone and air) was this well done? Didst thou fear I should too soon forget thee. Cruel Man, thus to interrupt the Peace I am striving for! Go to the Royal Nuptials, thy Fate prepares; and leave me! Leave me Emilius, to my Beloved, and chosen Solitude. I do design to leave thee, (replied the Prince,) Thou Dear, thou only Charmer! Excellent Woman! The First, the Last, that e'er possessed Emilius' Heart! I'm for ever going; push me not from thee, with precipitated haste; Let me but gaze a moment, grasp thy loved hand, and bear it to my trembling Lips; print my last Kisses there: I'll then pursue what, sure as Death and Fate, I have resolved. What, dear Bewitching Talker, (returns Lovisa, her Eyes swimming in Love and Tears) What hast thou resolved? Even in these very Weeds to be for ever shrouded (said Emilius) and far, far hence removed; at once forsaking, what to Death I loathe; and what more than Life I loved! This must not be (Lovisa interrupts him): Rob not the World, and your Unhappy Country, of Virtues, which as they are Exemplary, should be Conspicuous: that the Great Example may encourage a degenerate Age; and make the Subject blush at Vices which his Prince abhors. Ah! Do not vainly waste the last, and only precious moments of my Life (cried Emilius.) Death, or a Cell, I've swore, by all that's Sacred! Therefore no more, my Love; look on me, as a Wretch that's dying, as one Condemned; without the possibility of a Reprieve; with gentle pity soothe the rugged'st blow of Fate, Eternal Parting. And for the Ease of my divided Heart, which with unbated Passion still will heave and swell, and pant at thought of thee, give me thy Promise to keep thy Faith inviolate. When, I, low as the Dust, shall grovel in my distant humble Cell; let me hug this thought; not Crowns, nor Youth, or Beauty, tempts Lovisa to entertain another Love; and blot the lost Emilius from her constant Mind. Is this all, thou dear Deserver (said Lovisa, looking on him with the kindest aspect in the World?) Ah! poor return for so much worth; for so much Love, I'd be lavish in my Protestations, were there need; but sure Emilius neither knows himself, nor me, when he requires one. You are for a Cell, and where, think you, I am to be disposed? Not in a Court, I'll promise ye! Distant, indeed, our Cells will be; but the thinking Mind can travail, in one moment, many Leagues. I'll beg of Heaven, it may be no Offence to dedicate, each Day, some loved peculiar hours to thee. I'll think of every tender word, and look, and Blush, as it were Acting over again. This shall be the Banquet of my Mind, all Times, besides those Devoted to my Sighs, and Sadness! Oh! unequalled Charmer (answered the Transported Prince) why dost thou talk thus? Why did I beg for Kindness, when my foolish nature cannot bear it! That I could now, this instant, fall a Victim at thy Feet; and thereby Eternalise the greatest Flame, that e'er possessed the Heart of Man! But I will live; and suffer for thee! Yes, my Fair Saint! Judge thou thyself, if 'tis not greater Pain to live than die; to live without the Wretched'st last Comfort, Hope; to rave; to love like me; even to Madness Love. And in all these heights, to leave Thee! Parted by Seas, and wild's, and Alps, and what's yet a greater Bar, a Father's Curse! Thou Cold Benumbing Hand of all-destroying Death, seize me. Embalmed by my Lovisa's Tears! At her Feet Expiring is a quick Conveyance to a quiet Grave; a Blessing I would court with the same Eagerness, as others eat approaching Fate. His looks, which the very Image and Impress of unartificial sorrow bore, gave terror to his words, and would have pierced Souls more insensible than Lovisa's, or her fair Friend's. That Friend, a sorrowful Spectator of this dismal Meeting, told Lovisa she heard the Gates open; and believed it was for Don Alvarez, who was coming to seek her. Lovisa Conducted Emilius away, to avoid her Uncle, out of this Inner Grove. At parting, Grief grew too big for Words: A strict Embrace, and mingled Tears, conclude the cruel Separation. Not that Lovisa feared Don Alvarez's knowing the Prince in his Disguise: only the mutual Trouble, and Confusion they were in, was too visible, and of necessity must have been perceived. This occasioned her to hasten him away, before her Uncle reached the Place.  
Disconsolate Emilius returned to the Monastery, inwardly bewailing his Condition; esteeming himself the most deplorable of human kind. His Body yielded beneath the Fatigues of these perplexing Inquietudes; so that he was taken very ill. The careful Friars did their best to comfort, and refresh him. He desired to be left alone to his Repose; though, in reality, 'twas only to enjoy the Melancholy Cogitation, his disappointed Love suggested.  
In the Evening, one came and told him, a Gentleman enquired for the Cordelier, that came the night before. This put the Prince upon his Guard; he bid 'em Conduct the Stranger to him; and contrived his Fatal Dagger in a readiness, to give him liberty, if they offered to seize him. But he found those Thoughts needless, when he saw Bileront enter. Emilius, with a sad Air, turned from him; and said, Why dost thou follow me? Thy officious Love is grown troublesome of late. Condemn me not, till you have heard what I have to say (replied Bileront:) Alas! there's an alteration of a fatal wondrous sort, since your Departure. Our Duke— Cruel though he be (interrupted Emilius) Heaven preserve him ever from approaching Danger— The Prince silent, Bileront reassumed his Discourse. The Morning your Highness left the Court, the Duke prepared to hunt, and enquiring for you, was told, that out of respect to the Princess Isabel, with your own hand, you had been most part of the night writing. This pleas ' him, and he said, you should not be disturbed. He had not road far, before his Horse unfortunately threw him, and he received a dangerous wound in his Head. He was brought back to the Palace, just as the Duchess was informed of your being gone. This Completion of Misfortunes o'er-whelmed her. The Duke fainted several times at the dressing of his hurt; yet knows not of your Absence; though, when he could for his intolerable pain speak, he has often asked for you. Emilius looked earnestly in Bileront's Face; trying to discover whether this sad Narration was Truth. Bileront perceiving his Doubts, with earnest Asseverations confirmed what he had said, and convinced the Prince. He also told him, how he had contrived to leave some Servants, with  for him, and directed him the way to enter the place privately; and get shifted without discovery. Emilius, though indisposed, prepared to see his Dying Father; his Nature was Tender; and notwithstanding Almighty Love, this sad accident touched him nearly. Yet would he not forget his Mourning Fair, but contrived a Letter, which being of necessity to be sent by one of the Cordelier's, he would not use his own hand or name, but desired Bileront to write the following words.  
Madam,  
THE Cordelier, you saw to Day, in the Garden, begs you would defer all hasty Resolutions. An Affair of weighty moment calls him back to Court; in a few Days this shall be Explained. What I have said, is by directions from the— What remains, is only that I am  
Your most Humble, and Obedient Servant, Bileront.  
Emilius gave a Friar this Letter, and charged him to deliver it that Night. Then he took his leave of those Hospitable Fathers; saying, he was sent for in great haste, to Court; and promised that he would acquaint the Prince, how Courteous, upon his Account, they had been. Emilius fancied his Deportment so odd in the Convent, that their Curiosity might prompt them to open the Letter; which caused him to have it writ so ambiguously. But they, without the least thought of such rudeness, accomplished his desires.  
Lovisa had, the remainder of that Day, been discoursing with her Uncle of her resolution to enter the Nunnery of St. Clare. That good Man used all the Arguments, a tender Affection could Inspire, against it. Told her, that being Childless, he had designed her for his Heir; which, said he, added to your own Fortune, will, as to Estate, render you a Match for any Prince in Christendom. And Beauty, Virtue, or whatever Graces else adorn your Sex, the World, that is, the Happy World which knows you, with Justice, owns you, in Perfection, Mistress of.  
Alvarez said this, and a thousand more kind things, to no purpose. Gratitude and Love possessed her Noble Soul; nor could she in honour act less; when brave Emilius set the great Example. The Arrival of the Cordelier, with the Letter of Bileront, surprised her extremely; and for the time desired, she remained in wondrous Expectation; framing many Conjectures wide of the matter.  
Prince Emilius and Bileront reached the Court, just as the old Duke had been in another swooning Fit. Emilius went directly to the Duchess; who almost Distracted with her Unexpressible Sorrow, beheld him as a Vision. After the Duchess had chid him for his Disobedience; she, in Mourning Terms of real Concern, related the Misfortune and Danger his Father lay under; adding, that he had been, that Day, so earnest to see him; that they were forced to own his Absence. Which News the Duke received with less Passion than was expected. The next Interval, when his fainting Spirits were a little retrieved, Emilius entered his Chamber, and going towards the Bed, he kneeled. Silence and a sadness unfeigned stamped his Face, with humble Duty; and pleaded more in his Excuse, than if he had offered at extenuating words. The Duke beheld him, but with no signs of Rage, and with a weak Voice, said, Emilius, I know my past Severity, rough Usage, and my positive Commands, thy tender Nature could not kindly brook. Believe me, Son, 'twas well meant; I would have formed thee, Youth, a perfect Soldier; but thy Mother's softness hangs about thy Soul; and she hath stamped thee all a Lover. And since I'm going to the Land of Peace; I will not ruffle the Calmness I've so late obtained, in struggling with Desires violent as yours. With my Blessing Possess the Mistress, you with such an Eagerness have Loved; and do not hate the Memory of your Departing Father, who only for your Interest, opposed this Passion: too great, it seems, to be removed. Oh! Heavens! (cries the poor Prince, o'ercome with Filial Sorrow) must I ne'er aim at Joys sincere! Live, my dear Father, live; though to continue Cruel, divided ever from my Unhappy Fair, I fancy I could bear it now! No more, no more, (the Duke stops him) on this Theme! Come nearer, receive and remember the last Instructions of thy Dying Father. The Prince, being seated by him, he gave him such Politic Rules, as he, by long Practice had found most useful; the constant observing of which, has enlarged his Dominions, and augmented his Power.  
That Night the Duke Expired, Emilius was immediately Proclaimed, according to his Right, Successor. The Young Duke managed his Affairs with a most uncommon Prudence; being Affectionately Dutiful to his Weeping Mother; and obliging all whom his Father had loved, and favoured. Lovisa was, by his Order, acquainted with all these Particulars; yet so fearful was he of committing any undecency, that he denied himself the satisfaction of seeing her, for three Months. The delight of reciprocal Love, being the highest Abstract of Joy, he justly judged it improper to possess at a time, which in Duty, he ought to dedicate wholly to Affliction.  
All the Court looked on Lovisa, as a Person ordained for their Duchess; and already gave her a profound Respect. Don Alvarez, who loved her entirely, was so pleased with her Exalted Fortune, that he settled all his Lands and Lordships on her, after his Decease. This rendered it Policy as well as Pleasure, for the Duke to Espouse her; the Estate being too Opulent for a Subject, without danger, to enjoy. The Duchess Dowager prevails with Lovisa to return to Court, and the time of strict Mourning being over Emilius constantly Visits her; his Love, if possible, still seeming to Increase. At length, the Nuptials are concluded; and with great Solemnity performed. Billeront deservedly remaining his dearest endless Favourite.  
I think, I safely may affirm (added Francisco) Prince Emilius a happy Man. His public Affairs are Prosperous, his Beauteous Duchess Fruitful in Issue, as well as Charms; indearingly kind to him; and naturally good to all. Whatever progress he undertakes, she, by his desire, still accompany's him, except to the Camp; where he hath done wonders, since his Accession to the Throne. Demonstrating that a perfect Lover may be a complete Soldier.  
Thus ends Francisco; By the Commands of your Highness (bowing to Olympia:) I have, to the utmost of my knowledge, discovered each particular relating to the Loves of that Incomparable Pair.  
The Ladies were liberal in their thanks to Francisco; and infinitely pleased with the Narration; especially Melora; her Sentiments were Delicate; and by a Sympathetic Power, the Misfortunes or Blessings of others sensibly moved her Passions. This the Cardinal observes, and improves by a thousand new Protestations of everlasting Fidelity. Melora was so full of the foregoing History, she did not seem to listen much to the Cardinal's Compliments. Olympia took notice of it, and said My Dear, you are mightily delighted with Lovisa; but I don't perceive you intent to follow her Example: She did not maintain her rigour half so long. True (added Barberino) Emilius, in all his Sufferings, had the rich Cordial of Lovisa's Love for his support; but I pay all my Vows to an obdurate Rock; to a fair Marble Statue; Deaf to my Prayers, and with my Sighs unmoved. I thought replied Melora, (Blushing and looking on Olympia) my Royal Governess would have chid me, as discovering my Weakness too far: and I assure you, my Lord (went she on smiling) you cannot oblige me more than in comparing me to Rocks and Marbles, and such impenetrable stuff: for I have a great vanity to be thought Inexorable. Melora delivered this with an unusual cheerful air; infinitely charming the amorous Priest. He snatched her lovely Hand, and moulding it with burning Kisses, cried passionately, this warm softness is, I'm sure, no Kin to Marble.  
Unavoidable Business called Olympia next Day to the Court of Rome. For this Politic Niece of the Pope's was as busy in the Ecclesiastical Affairs, as any Favourite Nephew, before, or since. Most part of the last Night at the Villa, they spent in wooing Melora, that the next Journey to this convenient Solitude should complete the Happiness of the pretended Prince Alphonsus. Reiterated Prayers prevailed; and that Fair Sacrifice, by her sweet blushing silence, gives consent. Transported with their Fatal Success, they all return to Rome; the Ladies by themselves, and the Cardinal another way.  
Fate, as if not fully resolved to destroy such Perfection and Innocence as sweet Melora's, made offers at a Discovery; offers only they proved, and the black contrivance went on. The first Prospect of undeceiving her, was Francisco's falling in love with her. His being privy to the Design, gave him often Opportunities of her Conversation. And you may as well suppose it easy to dwell in Flames and not be scorched; as to be often near Melora, hear her talk, and view her Charms, yet feel no warmth. Stifled Fire can never be long concealed; much less the Hottest Flame, Smothered Love. Cunning Olympia catcht his unwary Eyes Riveted to her fair Face; observed his frequent Sighs, his Tremble, and his change of Colour, when she talked to him, or he, by accident, was near. This in the first beginnings of his Love, Olympia informs the Cardinal. He considered it as dangerous, and being sending dispatches into Spain, makes him the Chief Commissioner, and hurries him away; giving him no opportunity again to see Melora.  
Francisco guessed the Cause of this new Employ, and was upon the rack. He knew should he disobey, or give Melora caution of her approaching Ruin; if there were Daggers or Poisons to be bought in Rome, his Life must satisfy the revengeful Cardinal. Then, he justly thought Melora's hate would fall on him, as well as all the rest of her Deceivers. He vainly hoped, diversity of business would efface her Charming Image from his Breast. He knew his Fortunes destroyed for ever, should he forsake a Prince Cardinal, whose Power was so vast to raise him. Yet against these, gentle Compassion, increased by Love, pleaded strongly; and always whispered him to save such Matchless Innocence. But e'er he had determined, the Impatient Cardinal forces him on Board. When Melora asked for him, Barberino told her he was gone to Modena, by his Order. Olympia now began to press her earnestly, for this designed Journey to the Villa. Melora knew what they expected from her there; and her Virgin Fears representing Marriage, without her Father's Knowledge, terrible still, caused her to put it off, delaying with many excuses. Olympia had procured a Priest, she having a hundred of them at her service; Preferment lying so greatly in her Power. The Priest knew not the bottom of the design; was only told it was two Friends of Donna Olympia's, who desired to be Married privately.  
Whilst things remained thus, with no other stop, but Melora's delays; she happened, passing through her Father's Hall, to drop a Letter of the Cardinal's; which her Father, following her, took up, and read these words.  
Divine Princess,  
Each moment, that I see you not, seems to drag a heavy Chain. To live another Day and Night without you, would be a Torment wholly Insupportable. When I see you next, to read a little Anger in your lovely Eyes, for my long stay, will please me more than the smiles of Empresses. So much is every word and look prized by the Humblest of your Servants.  
The Ambassador straight calls for his Daughter, and showing the Paper in his Hand, asked her from whom that Piece of Gallantry came? It is observable that Women are so ingenious and quick at nothing, as the Affairs of Love. And the most ignorant and illiterate, commonly have cunning enough to manage an Intrigue. I believe, the Reason is, Love being the most agreeable Passion of their Minds, employs every Faculty of their Soul readily; no wonder then Melora was so quick at an excuse. For she, without any hesitation, answers her Father, it was a Letter of her own composing, and designed for Olympia. He suddenly returns upon her, but how comes it then in a Man's hand? I have it always drawn over by one of her Pages (replies Melora, without any visible discomposure) to divert her the more. Though this sounded a little strangely, yet so unblemished was the Carriage and Conversation of this Young Lady, that her Father gave her back the Letter, without the least mistrust. Glad was Melora thus easily to recover it, and going to Olympia acquaints her with the story. Who, thereupon presses her again for the Marriage; assuring her that the Duke's Business went on successfully; and that she would quickly be Proclaimed Duchess of Ferrara and Modena; will you then (adds she earnestly) neglect the opportunity of this proffered Glory; and by backwardness delay time, till some sinister accident occur, that may frustrate all our designs? These Arguments, delivered by so faithful a Friend, as Melora took Olympia to be; moved her to yield.  
This joyful News is communicated to the Cardinal, who came that Night, and expresses his transports by a thousand Extravagancies of Fondness. Now the third Journey is made to the Villa, where these Unhappy Nuptials are Celebrated; at which Hymen ought to have hid his Face; and only Portentous Omens appeared.  
Melora's Genius still whispers she has done ill; which foreboding Thoughts take from her Eyes their cheerful Lustre. Innumerable were their Prayers before they could obtain a full Consummation: at length powerful importunity overcomes; and the Cardinal has sacrificed to his Lust Nature's Masterpiece. Who, if her Fate had equalled her Beauty, and other rare Endowments, might justly have expected in reality, as much Greatness, as Olympia only flattered her with.  
Six Months this Insatiate Priest Revels on that Luxurious Banquet, Blooming Youth, and yielding Beauty. By which time his fierce desires begin to cool in that certain Cure for Love full Enjoyment. Then he, with vexation reflects on the almost unaccountable sums, this short-lived Pleasure hath cost him; besides Melora's Pregnancy; which, spite of their utmost endeavours, would, in a short time, appear; adds infinitely to his Terrors. These Thoughts take from his Conversation that Vivacity and Livelyness which before made it pleasing. Melora quickly perceives this alteration; and sensibly resents it. Her demeanour was replete with Duty and Love; nor can she but with inexpressible regret, endure this cold return. He excuses it with the crossness of his Affairs; which Melora in part believes: for by the public Discourse at her Father's, she understands the real Duke of Modena was near a Rupture, with the Pope; and that a War was like to follow. She represents this to Olympia; who puts her off with fair words only.  
Whilst these unhappy things were Acted in and near Rome, the forementioned Francisco, whose Soul was agitated with a hundred different Resolutions, arrives in Spain. But neither the Sea, nor distant Climates, can Efface Melora from his Memory. 'Slight Wounds, Absence and Time may heal, but this Charming Beauty gives no such; and his pains augment. Then he Curses his Cowardice, and calls himself a thousand Villains, for leaving the Lady exposed; first to the Lust, and then the Cruelty of the Cardinal. For he knew Antonio's Temper too well, to doubt Barbarity would follow his satiated Love. These Apprehensions distract him to that degree, that he resolves to leave unfinished all his Business, and return disguised to Rome; and rescue, if possible, the Guiltless Maid from the Jaws of Ruin.  
Pursuant to this design, he immediately goes on Board; but is unfortunately, by contrary Winds, kept on the Seas, till the time is Elapsed for his doing any service to Melora. At length, he lands, comes to Rome in the Habit of a Pilgrim; discolouring his Face to that degree, that 'twas impossible any Body should know him. He rejoices in his safe Arrival at Rome; and vainly hopes, something hath hitherto disappointed the Cardinal's Consummating his Wishes. Then Love presents him, with the false flattering Joy (it being natural for that Passion to deceive us:) that he, saving Melora from the dire Fate that hung over her; she might, in recompense give him leave to own his Flame. Not then considering, that, when Melora was convinced of the Treachery designed against her, she must needs detest every Instrument of the Treason. Now the difficulty that remained, was the getting an Opportunity to speak with Melora, she being perpetually almost at Olympia's, where he not daring to venture, was in a great Perplexity. He lurks in the Evening near Olympia's House; discovers the Cardinal go in, by an usual door of the Garden, and resolved to watch his return; but was amazed to find it not till the Morning's approach. Then his fears began to inform him, all help was passed; however delays must certainly make it so. Therefore he designs the next time Olympia went to the Pope's Palace, to ask boldly for Melora, and trust to his Disguise. But he was prevented in this, by seeing Melora take Coach in the Afternoon, accompanied only by Olympia's Woman; and enquiring whither the Coach was going, he was informed to Olympia's Villa. He immediately follows them; and the next day, with a Key he had preserved, got into the Garden; hoping he might find Melora there; if he did not, he knew his Habit would protect him from Violence, should any of the Family see him. But here his Wishes were answered; for e'er he had searched far, he beheld that sweet Lady lying on a Bed of Grass, near a Fountain, whose murmurs joining with her own Sorrows, had lulled her into a slumber. For sorrowful he perceived she had been, by the rich dew which wet her Handkerchief, and yet hung upon her fair Cheeks. He could scarce view this Mourning Fair, without joining in the Womanish Grief. After he had gazed, and sighed, and talked things, sad as despair could utter; he spies her Table-Book open; where something seemed to have been just written. Taking it up, finds these lines.  
Happy's the Nymph born in a homely Seat,  
Nor knows the troubles of the rich and great.  
Wrapped in th' Embraces of her faithful Swain,  
Feels still new Joys with no allay of pain.  
Ambition ne'er disturbs their gentle Love,  
Nor Cares, nor Fears, their harmless Mirth remove.  
In Huts as humble as their Minds they lie,  
And lofty Roofs despise that reach the Sky.  
To these alone does Heaven true Joys dispense,  
And with content rewards their Innocence.  
Content a Jewel that is seldom known  
To bless or beautify a Regal Crown.  
Ah! How have my unwary Footsteps strayed,  
While noise and glory my soft hours betrayed.  
My purchased Pomp my Happiness has cost,  
So in pursuit of Toys the Gem is lost.  
Alas! Unhappy Beauty, said he, with a sigh: (as he had done reading) if thou art already sad, how wilt thou mourn with endless Wail, when the bottom of thy Fate is known! all the woeful truth discovered. This, Francisco, Transported with his Passion, spoke so loud, that he waked the sleeping Fair; who seeing a Man so near her, starts up and cried, who art thou, that thus rudely pressest on my solitude, and disturb'st my quiet Moment's? A Wretch (he answered, putting one Knee to the ground) that's born to Curse himself; nay worse, one whom you are bound to Curse, with direst Imprecations pursue, nor ever mention, but when an Invective of the bitter sort must follow. Sure (replies Melora calmly) you take me for some other Person, since I dare boldly say, my Conscience, my Soul's faithful Register, does not accuse me with so much Injustice, as ever to have an Inclination to Curse a Stranger, much less one who bears the Religious Show; which I, in all Persons, venerate. Is this Voice wholly a Stranger to you (he returned passionately.) Oh that it were; or that the Name of Francisco had been blotted with Eternal Oblivion, rather than have reached the Ears of the Adored Melora! Or that an avenging Bolt had struck me to the Centre, before I had been made the detested Instrument of deceiving you! Why do you perplex me thus with Riddles, (says Melora; the Blood beginning to forsake her Cheeks) if you are Francisco, my Lord's Chief Favourite, whom he sent to Modena: what means this Habit? And why this strange Address? Your Lord (answers this feigned Pilgrim hastily)— then all my fears are true; and you must prepare to hear a story, at which my Bleeding Heart sinks down, and my faltering Tongue almost denies me power to relate. What does Alphonsus then design to abandon me? (interrupts the fearful Creature, falling upon a Bank, her trembling Knees not being able to support her:) has he cruelly resolved (went she on, all in Tears) to deny his Marriage, and expose me, and his Offspring to endless Infamy? Oh! haste! Deliver me from these Fears; or see me dead! And is (said she, before he could speak) Olympia joined with him, in my undoing? Why do you not answer me, and ease my Throbbing Heart? If the Duke and she are both false to Love, and Sacred Friendship, pronounce my Doom, at once; let me not linger long in Torments. Since Providence has Ordained you so unkind a Fate (replies Francisco) take to you, Madam, the resolution, your Innocence affords: Let your Injuries disrobe your Soul of Tenderness: Arm yourself with a noble scorn; and make your just Resentments overcome your Sorrows. Oh! Do not pause (cries that weeping Fair) go on; though it give me Death. Heaven is my Witness (says he, still delaying) I would not undeceive you, so sad's the task, did not I fear a farther Mischief. But, to prevent that, know, Madam, your Husband is not Alphonsus, nor Duke of Modena; but Antonio Barbarino, the Pope's Nephew. He assumes most unjustly, the Title of Cardinal Patron; when in reality he is a Destroyer of his Country, and an utter Enemy to all Goodness. As Francisco was about to proceed, he perceived a deadly paleness to overspread Melora's Beauties; and after some Efforts of struggling Nature, she fell into a Swoon. Never any perplexity equalled this poor Lover's; he was unwilling to call any of the House to her assistance, because he had not finished his Discovery; nor given her a Caution of Barbarino's Cruelty. He runs to the Fountain, sprinkles some of its Waters on her Face, bows her Body gently forwards; at last she revives. Casting her lovely Eyes, overwhelmed with Sorrows, upon him, she said with a Sigh: Ah! Cruel Man! why have you brought me back to this detested Light; which, I must never more view with Cheerfulness! Yet, how know I (adds she, recollecting herself:) but you may be an Impostor, and forge this Story, to abuse my Friend, and Lord. On that condition I would part with my right hand replies this guilty Informer: No, Madam; what I aver, is too sad a Truth: Antonio is the Man: I can bring you, where you shall see him in his Scarlet Robes going to the Consistory. Behold here (went he on, pulling Papers out of his Pocket) Dispatches written with his own hand; which, I believe you know. Melora could not but own she did; having received a hundred Billets-Doux's, in the same Character. Fly then Madam, (proceeds Francisco) from this most abhorred of Men, and Basest of Women, whose degenerate Souls could Betray such Matchless Virtue, to Unparallelled Ruin. I am certain their wicked designs will not end thus. For when the Cardinal who knows not to put a true Estimate on Beauty, has satiated his Luxurious Appetite: your Death (Ah dismal Thought! cries he, in a Tone wholly Passionate) your Death will follow: I have heard them so resolve. Whither shall I fly (replies the Disconsolate Lady) with this Guilty Load! Not to my Incensed Father; he will upbraid me with my Disobedience, and say, my Punishment is a just Reward for my crime. Oh! Heavens! (said she) may I not murmur, may I not Complain: that these Probations are too severe for my Frailer Sex to bear! Consider, Madam, (replies the truly Afflicted Francisco) Parents are Indulgent; and when he shall hear the Truth; which I will also, with my Life attest; your Innocency, and Nature pleading in your behalf; will force him to receive you with Paternal Tenderness: Therefore hasten from this Dissolute Priest; whose many Lusts and Impieties to relate, would die your cheeks in a modest Crimson: Lafoy Cecca Buffona was once his Mistress, and Gloried in her shame. Then to a Courtesan, who dwelled in the Julian-street, he gave, to satisfy his Lust but once, a Thousand Crowns: not to mention the more than Brutal Passion he hath oft had for his own Sex.  
My Soul sickens at these Black Relations; (said Melora) and Unborn Innocence Dies in my Womb. As she was speaking; a Page enters the Garden, and tells her Donna Olimpia was just Arrived; at which Melora, composing herself as much as possibly she could, prepares to go and receive her. But first she desires Francisco to make her Father's House his Sanctuary; and tells him she will Escape thither, if by none of their stratagems prevented, the next Day; adding, that till she came, he should not mention any thing of these Unhappy Circumstances. I will, in every particular, obey you, (answers that Dejected Man) but e'er I go, I would, on my Knees, implore what will, in you, be an Act of Mercy, almost above a Mortal; and bring to my despairing Soul, the only Balsam, that can heal it's rancorous Wounds, and deter my Desperate Hand, from Committing on my Body the Violence, my Guilty Thoughts suggest: I mean, Forgiveness. Madam, if from your fair Mouth I hear my Pardon Sealed, I shall emboldened grow, and look towards Heaven for Mercy; else, I must sink to the dismal Grave, covered over with trembling horror, and never hope with Joy to rise.  
Bear Witness Heaven (replies that lovely Creature; her intermingling Tears almost hindering her Speech) I forgive you, and may that boundless store, from whence Eternal Mercy flows, forgive you too! Yet give me leave, Francisco to add, it was unkind, mighty unkind, thus to betray a harmless Maid; who never so much as in thought harboured a wrong to you. 'Twas Barbarous;— 'twas something worse than I can give a name to (replies her Idolater, almost-raving). Melora interrupts him, and Commands him to rise, and fly to his intended refuge: saying, she knew Olympia would immediately be there. He obeys, and departs with the saddest aspect in the World. Assoon as Olympia had conversed with Melora, she discovered the pressure upon her Spirits; and plainly saw she put a great constraint upon herself, to appear cheerful. At first Olympia imputed it only to the Cardinal's Absence, and told her, in a gay strain, she must not be so fond; but however to satisfy her longing, the Duke would be there that Night. Will he, Madam, (Answers the other, with an Air of scorn) and when shall we enjoy this glorious Splendour, my dazzled Eyes have but in Fancy seen? Methinks I wish my Lord would quit his pretensions to Ferrara, and be content with Modena; that will satisfy my Ambition. Melora delivered this in a tone so different from that she used to discourse of his Affairs in, that the cunning Olympia fixing her Eyes upon her, immediately guessed, she had some Information of the Deceit; and making her a slight Answer, goes to inquire who had been there; and understands by the Page that went into the Garden, a Pilgrim was seen talking with her. Whilst she was busied in this Examination, her Woman brings her word the Cardinal was in her Closet, and desired to speak with her before he saw Melora. Olympia flies to him, but e'er she could deliver her News, Barbarino greets her with this: Madam (says he) I have this day had Intelligence from Spain, that Francisco has quitted the Negotiation, I employed him in there, in a disguise. Nay then the Riddle's Explained, replies Olympia, and relates all the foregoing Passages. Upon this, they both agree to send a couple of Trusty Servants in search of this Feigned Pilgrim; who should seize him, and lay him fast; rightly conjecturing his design was to publish their Crime. These Fellows overtake the wretched Man, before he was got half way to Rome; his Afflictions hindering his swift travelling: They strait bind, gag, and hall him back to Olympia's; where he is committed close Prisoner to a remote Chamber. Now these two wicked ones, the Cardinal and Olympia, begin to consult farther, and take Melora into their Consideration. After a thousand Arguments and Reasons urged backwards and forwards, her doom is sealed.  
Thus this Lovely Rose, the wonderful excess of extravagant Nature, whose blooming sweetness would have given years of Rapture, to an honest, honourable Husband: is now, by the very Possessor, Condemned to Fade, and whither in the Thoughtless Dust. Nor could her Pregnancy, even by him (which would have made Barbarians to have Melted;) move this Inhuman Cardinal. No; his Reputation is concerned, and she must die. That ensuing Night accordingly Olympia delivered to this most Cruel Man a Powder, whose fatal Power would, in Twelve hours' time, certainly dissolve that well appointed Union of the Soul and Body. At Supper they conclude to give it her in a Glass of Wine and Water; they three always eating in Olympia's Closet, without Attendance, except Beatrice, because the pretended Duke was not to be seen by the Servants.  
Full of these Hellish Resolutions Olympia goes to seek the intended Victim; finds her in her Closet devoutly kneeling, directing her Pious Prayers to a place, where Persons guilty of Olympia's Crimes, must never enter. A sight, one would have thought, should have struck that Barbarous Woman with remorse. But she, unmoved, proceeds, and with a seeming cheerfulness, asks Melora to go with her to the Duke. This disconsolate Lady's Face was decked in Sorrow's chiefest Robes; yet, through all that Clouded Sadness, such a World of Beauty shone, as would have turned a Tyrant's Rage; disarmed the Fury of Irrational Creatures; and preserved her in the very Paws of Lions. But the Bloody Barbarino views her with relentless Eyes; and with his own hand presents her the poisonous Draught, which the trembling Lady drinks: For every thing she feared; yet hoped they were ignorant of her Information. Now, the Plot for the Cardinal's removal to Rome must be Executed. To that end Olympia's Woman brings her a Packet, saying a Gentleman, in great haste, had just brought it. In this Packet, there is a Letter directed to the Duke of Modena; which he reads with show of great concern, and tells the Ladies he must needs leave them instantly, and post back to Rome. Poor Melora inwardly rejoices at his design; having resolved to deny him her Bed, which she feared might betray her knowledge of their Treachery. He takes his leave with seeming Reluctancy, and returns to Rome, jocund that his Lust is satisfied, and his Crime like to remain undiscovered. Melora retires to her Chamber betimes; designing to make her Escape early the next Morning; and then thinking herself out of danger, she resolves to leave a Letter, that shall accuse Olympia of that perfidious dealing she hath used towards her. She writes the following Letter, and lays it upon her Table in the Closet; and intends to leave, the next day, the Key in the Door.  
To Donna Olympia.  
IF Providence favour my Innocence, before this come to your hands, I shall have escaped your Power. Think then, Madam, how the judging World, when they know my Wrongs, and hear my Story, will Condemn you of Unexampled Perfidy, that you must for ever hid your guilty head; lest, as you pass, the Virgin's Curses catch you, and bring down swift Destruction. You have betrayed the most trusting Maid Breathing: one, who would willingly have laid down that Life you so unkindly pursue, for your service; and for that Lustful satire, whose Crimes no Age can parallel. Tell him, when I appear, his conscious Cheeks shall outvie his Scarlet. But if that unauspicious Fate, which has led me to this heavy Misfortune, should still continue its Malignity; and let your Crimes Centre in my Death: know, I can meet that with undaunted Bravery; being assured at the last day, I shall appear encompassed with Myriad of glorious Spirits; whilst I behold you, and your black Accomplice, rolling beneath in Sulphurous Flames; howling out dire Lamentations, for the Cruelties practised on the most Injured  
Melora.  
The next Morning Olympia goes into her Chamber, and finds the young Creature, according to her wish, dead; she makes a dismal Outcry; and having drawn all the House about her, Counterfeits Sorrows almost to a Frenzy. The Marquis of Cor, her Father, is immediately sent for; to whom she continues her Grief at such an immoderate rate, that he is forced to neglect his own Sorrows, and turn Comforter. Soon after is Melora's private Interment; where the poor Ambassador left all his Joys; Mourning to that Excess, as would have moved a heart of stone. She being his only Daughter, and a Person of that Beauty and Parts, I must leave Indulgent Fathers to judge the Sorrows I cannot describe.  
Now the Cardinal's next Business is to dispose of Francisco, which he does to the Galleys; where he may tell his despair, and prate of Barbarino's Cruelty, to the Winds and Seas for they assoon will hear him, as his Robust Companions. The unusual Toils, and the intolerable Bastinadoes which the Cardinal orders to be given him, quickly end his days.  
Yet these dark Practices are doomed to be brought to light, and that by one of the Actors, Olympia's Woman Beatrice; who taking some deep disgust, flies to the Ambassador, and relates to that Disconsolate Father, each particular of this sad story. The unhappy Marquis than remembers a hundred circumstances, that convince him of the dismal Truth. He immediately Petitions the Pope, lays open plainly the Fact, brings the Maid to attest it; but all in vain. Antonio and Olympia are Persons too Great, for him to obtain Justice against, in the Court of Rome. So that he is forced to leave the last mentioned to the Terrors of her own Conscience for her Punishment, and enter himself a Soldier in the Duke of Parma's Army; who then made War against the House of the Barbarino's; to be revenged of the first. But Heaven's Vengeance slept not long; the Succeeding Pope Banishing Olympia to Orvieto, a City Twenty Leagues from Rome; where she died miserably of the Plague, abandoned even by her own Domestics; and the Cardinal soon after, loaded with Diseases, and Infamy, sunk to the Grave; by all unpityed.  
Thus, Ladies, you are brought to the deplorable end of the Beauteous Melora. And as her Misfortunes must raise Compassion in the tender Bosoms of the Young and Fair; so they may stand a lasting Caution to beware the Insinuations of the designing part of your own Sex; who having themselves lost that inestimable and never to be recovered Jewel, Reputation: endeavour to destroy Blooming Innocence. Beauty, as we may call it, is but the Paint of Nature; which, though it outlast the Lily and the Rose; yet, sure as they, must Fade: whilst a Fragrant Fame never dies. Melora cannot justly be taxed with any Miscarriage, but venturing to Act weighty things, without her Father's Knowledge Yet her hard Fate may fright all from Entertaining Motions of a Marriage, how specious soever they appear; till they have taken the Advice and Consent of those, whom God and Nature have appointed their Governors and Directors.   
THE END.   

Books Printed for Richard Wilkin, at the King's-Head in St. Paul's Churchyard.  
A Proposal to the Ladies for the Advancement of their true and greatest Interest. By a Lover of her Sex, 12 o.  
Letters concerning the Love of GOD, between the Author of the Proposal to the Ladies, and Mr. John Norris; wherein his late Discourse, showing that it ought to be entire and Exclusive of all other Loves, is farther cleared and Justified, 8vo.  
An Essay toward a natural History of the Earth and Terrestrial Bodies, especially Minerals: As also of the Sea, Rivers and Springs. With an Account of the Universal Deluges. And of the Effects that it had upon the Earth. By John Woodward, M. D. Professor of Physic in Gresham-College, and Fellow of the Royal Society, 8vo.  
A Vindication of the Truth of Christian Religion against the Objections of all Modern Opposers. By James Abbadie, D. D. 8vo.  
A second Part of the Enquiry into several Remarkable Texts of the Old and New Testament, which contain some difficulty in them: with a probable resolution of them. The second Edit. 8vo.  
A Discourse concerning the Authority, Style, and Perfection of the Books of the Old and New Testament; with a continued Illustration of several difficult Texts of Scripture throughout the whole Work. Both by John Edward's, B. D. sometime Fellow of St. John's College in Cambridge, 8vo.  
The Glorious Epiphany, with the Devout Christians Love to it. The Second Edition 8vo.  
Search the Scriptures. A Treatise chewing that all Christians ought to read the Holy Books; with Directions to them therein.  
A Discourse concerning Prayer, especially of frequenting the daily Public Prayers. All three by the Reverend Sym. Patrick, D. D.  
The Old Religion demonstrated in the Principles, and described in the Life and Practice thereof. By J. Goodman, D. D. The Second Edition. 12 o.  
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