C3«^::5 
 
 mw? 
 

 L I B R.A R.Y 
 
 OF THL 
 
 UN IVERS ITY 
 
 or ILLI NOIS 
 
 8^3 
 
 H8\G 
 
 x'k 
 
 f>' 
 
THL 
 
 HOUSE OF LANCASTER. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
NEW NOVELS, just Published. 
 
 IRISHWOMAN IN LONDON, a modern 
 Novel, in 3 vols. i6s. 6d. By Ann Hamilton, 
 
 CALEDONIA; or, The STRANGER in 
 SCOTLAND; a National Talc, in 4 vols. lU 
 Illuiirative of the flale of Civil Society and Do- 
 mcflic Manners in .Scotland, at the prefent Peri- 
 od. This novel is replete with dcfcriptive An- 
 ecdote, traits of National Chaiaftcr, and Bon 
 Ton Intelligence, and will form a gallery of 
 diflinguiftied Scottifh Portraits. Written by a 
 popular Author. 
 
 LINDAMJRA; or. An old MAID in fearch 
 of a HUSBAN'D; a Satirical novel in 3 vols, 
 13s. 6d. By Caroline Burney, Author of SE- 
 RAPHINA, &c. &c. 
 
 The WIFE; or, A MODEL for WOMEN 5 
 a talc In 3 vols. 15s. By Mis. Edgeworth. 
 
 CASTLE of VIVALDI; a Romantic Tale, 
 4 vols. 20s. By Caroline Ilorwood. 
 
 DISCARDED DAUGHTER; a very inte- 
 rcfling novel, in 4 vols, il. is, By Eugenia 
 De Adon. 
 
 SERAPHINA; or, A WINTERinTOWN^, 
 a modern novel, 3 vols. 15s. by Caroline Burney, 
 
 CCELIBIA chufing a HUSBAND; a novel 
 in 2 vols. 10s. Written by Captain Torreus, in 
 anfv/er to « CGELEBS in fearch of a WIFE." 
 
 SPLENDID FOLLIES ; 3 vols. 15$. By th^ 
 Author of The OBSERVANT PEDESTRIAN; 
 &c. <Scc. 
 
THE 
 
 HOUSE OF LANCASTER; 
 
 OR, 
 
 The Stoky of AP THOMAS. 
 
 AS 
 
 HISTORICAL NOVEL. 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 "How fierce a At;ml is passion! 
 
 "With wliat wildncss, what tyranny untaiiTed, 
 
 It reigns in woman. Unhappy sex 1 
 
 "Whose easy yieldina: temper, tihcs way 
 
 To evei-y appetite alike. And love 
 
 111 theii* weak Tjosoms is a rage 
 
 As poweiAjl as hate and as destructive. 
 
 ROWE. 
 
 % » » 
 
 VOL. h 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. F. HUeHES, 
 15, PATERNOSTER-ROn. 
 
 1810. 
 
Printed by M. Allen, 
 f atcrnostcr-Row, London. 
 
8^3 
 
 Never was a country more signally 
 rescued from tyranny than was Eng;- 
 land by the Eari of Richmond, after- 
 wards Henry the Seventh. 
 
 Richard the Third, nicknamed Crook- 
 back, finding himself on the verge of 
 dethronement, attached to his person 
 those of an ambitious spirit who might 
 be able to maintaiin, and put into ex- 
 ecution, his tyrannical designs. 
 
 The people of Wales, to whom 
 Richard had given too many conside- 
 rable causes of complaint, eagerly em- 
 braced this opportunity of being re- 
 
 VOL, I. B 
 
venged 6n him by favouring the de- 
 signs of Richmond. 
 
 This Prince was the son of Marga- 
 ret Countess of Richmond, the sole 
 dauL!;hter and heiress of the Duke of 
 Somerset, sprung from John of Gaunt 
 Duke of Lancaster: but the descent 
 of the Somerset hne was itself ille- 
 gitimate, and even adulterous. And 
 although the Duke of Lancaster had 
 obtained the legitimation of his chil- 
 dren by a patent from. Richard the 
 Second confirmed by parliament, it 
 might justly be doubted whether this 
 deed could warrant any title to the 
 crown ; since in the patent itself suc- 
 cession to the kingdom is express!/ 
 excluded. 
 
 iuchmond landed at Milford Haven in 
 Wales, where he was joined by a nu- 
 mejoui* body of troops headed by Sir 
 Rice ap Thomas, who had '^been sent 
 by ilichard to prevent his landing. 
 
llicliard, who knew not at vvli'd\ part 
 of the kingdom his adversary might 
 land, placed himself at Nottingham, 
 the centre, that he might be able to 
 fly immediately to the threatened 
 part. 
 
 Meanwhile Richmond advanced to- 
 wards Shrewsbury, receiving everyday 
 reinforcements fj:<'/m li is partisans : Sir 
 Gilbert Talbot joined him with all the 
 ■vassals and retciiners of the family of 
 Shrewsbury : Sir Thomas Boucher wui 
 Sir Walter Ilum^r-rinrd brought their 
 friends to share his fortune ; and the 
 appearance of men of distinction, in 
 his camp made already his cause wear 
 a favourable aspect : J^ord Stanley was 
 secretly his friend^ though he \vas 
 compelled to conceal it, as Richard 
 retained, as security for the honest 
 performance of liis orders, his beloved 
 son,' 
 
The numerous army of Richard lay 
 encamped at Nottingham : it consisted 
 of upwards of one hundred- and fifty 
 thousand foot and a numerous body of 
 cavalry. Richmond, whose courage 
 was proof against all thoughts of fear, 
 was not in the least daunted or dis- 
 heartened at the prospect of that im- 
 minent danger. Mis greatest hope and 
 confidence were in the nobility and 
 gentry, whose courage had often been 
 proved ; nor was he deceived in that 
 just and reasonable confidence : - for 
 with the utmost emulation and dili- 
 gence they flocked to his standard at 
 Shrewsbury, which place he had as- 
 signed them for the general rendez- 
 vous. Many nobles came at the head 
 of their subjects and vassals, of whi<^h 
 the most considerable of all was the 
 Karl of Shrewsbury, who had often 
 given signal proofs of his valour and 
 gallantry : yet all the troops united 
 
scarce amounted to a fourth part of 
 the multitude they were to encounter 
 with ; but the ardent emulation they 
 had to purchase fame, and their great 
 fidehty and undaunted loyalty to 
 Richmond, whom they now consi- 
 dered their King, proved a sufficient 
 equivalent to counterpoise the vast 
 advantages, their enemy, by the su- 
 periority of numbers, had pver them. 
 Richmond, that he might give this 
 ardour no time to cool, decamped 
 from Shrewsbury in search of a more 
 convenient ground to post his troops. 
 
 Richard also moved his quarters 
 from Nottingham, and marched out 
 to encounter the invaders, who had 
 taken up a position at Bosworth : it 
 w^as there, that Richmond gained his 
 crown. Victory was for a while con- 
 tended with great gallantry on both 
 sides; Richmond, in order to inspire 
 his troops, rushed into the thickest 
 B 3 
 
of the baUie, dealing dealli around 
 him. 
 
 It was then that the brave Prince 
 was deserted by every one but Sir 
 Rice ap Thomas, . one of the most va- 
 liant of his assistants ; and, being sur- 
 rounded by the enemy, had undoubt- 
 edly lost his life, had it not been for 
 the resistance made by that worthy 
 and faithful follower, who, at the ex- 
 pence of his own life, preserved that 
 of his prince, and gave him an op- 
 portunity of disengaging himself, and 
 making his retreat. But it was not 
 long before he had an opportunity of 
 revenging himself for the imminent 
 danger he had been in, and for the 
 loss of his faithful servant ap Thomas; 
 for Lord Stanley began a furious charge 
 upon the lines of Richard, whereby 
 Richmond had an opportunity of ral- 
 lying his dispersed band, which he 
 had no sooner done, than he fafced 
 
about again, and, in his turn, routed 
 
 the tyrant ; who, seeing the clay lost, 
 
 rushed into the thickest part and 
 
 perished. 
 
 After this brave action, in which 
 
 victoiy was declared for Richmond, 
 the remnant of the enemy betook 
 themselves to flight. Sir William Ca- 
 tesby, the great instrument of Rich- 
 ard^s crimes, was taken prisoner, and 
 the greatest part of the army was left 
 dead on the field of battle. 
 
 This victory, so glorious and com- 
 plete, at once put an end to the war. 
 The triumphant king was very liberal 
 in his praises, acknowledgements, and 
 rewards, to all those noble warriors 
 who had been so opportunely service- 
 able to him upon this emergent occa- 
 sion : but Lord Stanley was more par- 
 ticularly honoured with all the distinci- 
 tions and deference he had so wo|L 
 thily deserved, the King himself pub- 
 B 4 
 
licly acknowledging, that he was m- 
 debted to the valour and good con- 
 duct of the iijallant Lord, for the great- 
 est share of his present triumph. 
 
 He accompanied Richmond to Lon- 
 don, and had a very distinguishing part 
 in the magnificent reception the citi- 
 zens had prepared for the victorious 
 monarch ; and, with the King^s appro- 
 bation and consent, he was welcomed 
 into that city v^ith acclamations and 
 other honours, due as well to his illus- 
 trious birth, as to his great personal 
 merit and mo^t important services. 
 
 His credit with Richmond, whom 
 vv^e shall call in future by the name of 
 Henry the Seventh, was so great, that 
 numerous applications were made to 
 him, to intercede for the lives of some 
 of the captives of superior birth ; and 
 Stanley employed his interest with 
 his Majesty so effectually, tkat, upon 
 his account the King recalled the seiji- 
 
tence of death he so deservedly had 
 passed on the unfortunate command- 
 ers, and changed it into either that of 
 a pardon, or imprisonment. 
 
 Lord Stanley, after having received 
 from the King all the marks of friend- 
 ship and grateful acknowledgements 
 he could expect or desire, took his 
 leave and departed, in order to return 
 to his mansion. Upon his arrival there, 
 he had no other thoughts but those of 
 enjoying the pleasures that generally 
 follow a glorious victory. His first 
 care was to gratify those, whose cou- 
 rage and merits had best contributed, 
 and had been most instrumental to 
 the trophies and honours he had ob- 
 tained. 
 
 Charles and Reuben ap Thomas, the 
 sons of Sir Rice ap Thomas, though 
 very much in Henry's favour before, 
 were among the first who tasted the 
 effects of his liberality and gratitude, 
 B5 
 
so justly due to the memory of that 
 faithtiil follower, their flUher. As for 
 Chides, the Kmg gave him some con- 
 siderable employs, kept hrm near his- 
 own person, and bestowed several ho- 
 norable and advantageous posts on 
 his brother. The young gentlemen 
 by their great njcrit soon made it ap- 
 pear, that they were not unworthy of 
 his Majesty's munificence. Charles, 
 whom^ for distinction's sake, we shall 
 call ap Thomas, by his uncommon 
 qualifications, had, in a most distin- 
 guishing degree, gained general ap- 
 plause and esteem. He was scarce 
 arrived at his twenty-sixth year, and 
 had already given frequent and indis- 
 putable proofs of singular valour in 
 several places and upon different oc- 
 casions ; and at the battle >ofBoswortli 
 he left bloody marks of vengeance for 
 his father's death. He hid a soul great 
 aiid generous ; a genius lofty and pe 
 
n 
 
 netrating, yet easy and free ; his own 
 admirable natural parts were improved, 
 and highly embellished by an excel- 
 lent and liberal education. Added to 
 which, his person was amiable and 
 agreeable, his mien and air noble and 
 free from affectation, and he was so 
 extremely grateful, in his minutest 
 actions, that it was impossible to see 
 him without conceiving a strong love 
 and inclination towards him. 
 
 He excelled in all the bodily and 
 martial exercises, which were at that 
 time in use among the nobility and 
 gentry of England. No man sat firmer 
 on horseback, er rode with a better 
 grace than he ; and from the age of 
 sixteen, he had given many proofs of 
 his uncommon strength, agility, and 
 dexterity, ia managing a variety of 
 weapons. 
 
 But he was not the only distinguish- 
 able person in the court. There were 
 b6 
 
12 
 
 mnny r>oblemen and gentry, who, by 
 their singular merits and gallantry Avere 
 the ornament of their country, keep- 
 ing up the state and dignity of their 
 famihes,' and the greatness of their 
 fortunes. The most illustrious and re- 
 markable of these were: the Earl of 
 Pembroke the King's uncle, now Duke 
 of Bedford ; Edward Courtney, created 
 Earl of Devonshire ; Chandos, Earl of 
 Bath ; Giles, Lord Daubeny ; and Sir 
 Robert Willoughby, Lord Broke; and 
 several others. 
 
 But notwithstanding these nobl« 
 personages alone composed a very 
 gallant court, yet the ladies who 
 every day shined there were without 
 dispute its chief ornaments. Henry 
 had now espoused Elizabeth ; she 
 was extremely beautiful, but exces- 
 sively imperious and haughty, and 
 most violently governed by her pas- 
 sions. Dissimulation and artifice, were 
 
13 
 
 the flivorite foibles of her mind : her 
 
 heart was vain and amorous, and her 
 
 natural disposition tc love was the 
 
 cause, that, without resisting, she 
 
 gave herself up to that fatal passion, 
 
 which, in the end, had nearly proved 
 her destruction. 
 
 Lady Murray, who had been a wi- 
 dow^ for some time, was a most con- 
 summate beauty. Her charming per- 
 son seemed to have been modelled 
 by the very graces themselves : and 
 there was never found before, in any 
 single . beauty, a complication of so 
 many brilliant and enchanting {per- 
 fections, as were united in that lovely 
 lady. She triumphed in all the graces 
 of unblemished virtue, without the 
 least mixture of stiffness, pride, or 
 affectation : her wit was exquisitely 
 poignant and sublime, and her con- 
 versation always free, affable, and 
 easy. In a word, there was not one 
 
14 
 
 lady in the whole court of England, 
 who was in any way comparable to 
 this matchless woman. Since her 
 husband's death, she had withdrawn 
 herself from the court, and was retired 
 to her estates near Canterbury. So 
 attractive w^ere her charms, that she 
 had infallibly drawn the whole court 
 after her, had not the apprehensions of 
 disturbing a retirement, of which she 
 seemed so extremely fond, restrained 
 her admirers from following herr ne-^ 
 vertheless their Majesties obliged her 
 sometimes to leave her solitude, and 
 to shine at court, whenever any par- 
 ticular solemnities happened, on which 
 it was thought requisite, that England 
 should produce, and expose to public 
 view all its most brilliant ornaments : 
 but this fair recluse always returned, as 
 soon as possibly she could, to that 
 happy and delicious abode, which was 
 
become the centre of her whole am- 
 bition, and nil her desires. 
 
 Next to Lady Murray, who, for their 
 beauty, were of the greatest conside- 
 ration, were, Ladies Egerton, Lainley, 
 Obey, Leverton, Freeman, Rook, 
 Heartley, and a great number of other 
 most accomplished ladies : and, in 
 short, this court was the most nume- 
 rous, splendid, and magnificent of any 
 country. 
 
 As Henry was lately married to E- 
 lizabeth, his gieat magnificence, and 
 his complaisance to oblige the Queen, 
 was the standard which was followed 
 by all his courtiers. The passionate 
 love he had for his spouse, engaged 
 him to invent innumerable diversions, 
 and sumptuous entertainments every 
 day : at all which, the god of love 
 was the principal actor; and certainly 
 Cupid never established the throne of 
 his empire in so agreeable a situation. 
 
16 
 
 The hearts of ail were inspired vvftk 
 the little god, nor was reason, by an 
 importunate, troublesome severity, 
 ever any obstacle to the soothings and 
 flattering hopes of those votaries of 
 that blind deity. Charles ap Thomas 
 alone, with an unpardonable singula- 
 rity, seemed to be wholly indifferent 
 and imconcerned, amidst so many, 
 whose breasts were all in a flame. This 
 insensibility of his, exposed him to- 
 the censure and resentment of all those 
 beauties who had any pretensions to 
 his heart, and rendered him obnoxi- 
 ous to the raillery of such gallants, 
 who would not imitate him in an in- 
 jjensibte indifference so irrconsistent 
 with his year^, and so little answer- 
 able to the figure and appearance 
 he made ; but his assiduity and inde- 
 fatigable care be took to please his 
 King, seemed to be his whole con- 
 cern and only occupation ; nor did 
 
17 
 
 his sensibility seem to be otherwise 
 bounded,-than in studying the means 
 of giving proofs of his zeal, love, and 
 fidelity. A sentiment so rarely to be 
 met with, in a court where love and 
 gallantry were the reigning and predo- 
 minant passions, soon became the sub- 
 ject of universal admiration, as his 
 prudence and uncommon merit had 
 been before. 
 
 The Queen whose soul was but too 
 susceptible of the expressions of love, 
 and whose penetrating eyes and distin- 
 guishing faculties were superlatively 
 nice and delicate, was no longer able 
 to behold the amiable and attractive 
 qualification of ap Thomas, without 
 being agitated with violent emotions. 
 His employ gave him but too frequent 
 occasions of poisoning her eyes with 
 the resistless charms of his graceful 
 mien and person, and her ears with 
 the poignancy and eloquence of his 
 
18 
 
 tongue. At first she perceived not the 
 impressions his presence made on her 
 heart, but confounded the esteem she 
 had for him, and which he had so 
 justly deserved, with those sentiments 
 which proceeded from quite a different 
 source ; but, alas ! she was soon dis- 
 abused from an error of so great impor- 
 tance to her repose. With what regret, 
 with what an}>;uish of soul, did this 
 Queen discover the true nature of 
 those emotions which caused her to be 
 concerned, and to have an interest in 
 the destiny of ap Thomas ! Her fierce 
 and haughty heart, groaned at its 
 defect, and was almost ready to burst. 
 How many bitter tears did it cost her, 
 to find herself under the cruel neces- 
 sity of loving and sighing first! For in 
 a word, the respectable deportment of 
 ap Thomas breathed nothing but an 
 awful veneration, and the abundant 
 zeal he had for the consort of his be- 
 
loved sovereign, his patron, and his 
 benefactor : the closer views she took, 
 and the greater attention she gave to 
 all his actions, the less could she per- 
 ceive in him the least spark or glimpse 
 of that restlessness, which love alone 
 creates, and inspires. Her virtue sus- 
 tained a long conflict, with that mer- 
 ciless tyrannic flame, which preyed 
 upon her heart. But, alas! how un- 
 equal was the match, and how vain 
 and impotent the efforts 1 She soon 
 lost ground, and yielding up herself to 
 the discretion of that resistless passion 
 which hurried her on, she made no 
 difficulty of sacrificing to her inclina- 
 tions all she owed, both to her honor, 
 and to a husband who doated upon 
 and even adored her. Her eyes were 
 for a considerable time, the only inter- 
 preters of the sufferings of her soul; 
 her pride, rather than her inclination, 
 withheld her from making a declaration 
 
20 
 
 to which she was so violently pressed 
 by the vehement impulses of her 
 heart. Self-love, self-opinion or vani- 
 ty, easily persuaded this imperious, 
 this haughty Queen, that ap Thomas, 
 touched by her charms and beauty, 
 must needs, at last, shew her, by his 
 actions, what his respect and awful 
 distance forbade him to utter with his 
 tongue. 
 
 With this soothing prepossession, 
 she amused herself for some days, a 
 prepossession so favourable to her 
 amourous sentiments, which in spite 
 of her innate pride and haughtiness, 
 by degrees, decoyed her to make such 
 advances, that ap Thomas could by 
 no means have avoided discovering the 
 source from whence they proceeded, 
 had his profound veneration for her 
 Majesty left him any room to harbour 
 the least thought of any thing, but 
 what tended towards the officious dili- 
 
91 
 
 gence he always used in serving and 
 attending upon her in the manner he 
 was obliged to do, by his enaploys 
 about her person. But the httie desire 
 or forwardness he expressed in being 
 near her at the other times, besides 
 those when his duty required his at- 
 tendance, and his small attention, or 
 inclination to make his advantage of 
 her obliging and distinguishing behavi- 
 our to him, and the visible advances 
 she made him, caused such an emo- 
 tion, and so violent a storm in her 
 impatient breast, that she imagined it 
 might have been sufficient to wean 
 her from any longer entertaining a pas- 
 sion, which she began to think un- 
 worthy of her: ^but it was not long 
 that she had the satisfaction of enjoy- 
 ing that thought, so consistent with 
 her duty and so flattering to her pride: 
 for almighty love soon made her sen- 
 sible, that all these notions, which 
 
seem in appearance, to be contrary 
 and opposite to his power, are nothing 
 in reahty, l)ut the cH'ects of his invin- 
 cibility ; and as a further demonstration 
 of his indispensable power, he com- 
 pelled her to stoop to a method of 
 proceeding, to which she could never 
 have imagined herself capable of sub- 
 mitting. 
 
 As she was walking one day alone 
 ia the palace gardens with ap Thomas, 
 who had the honor of leading her by 
 the hand, she had not power to resist 
 the emotions she Mt, nor to miss that 
 favourable opportunity. "It is a long 
 time apThomas,^^said she, " that I have 
 sought an occasion of discoursing with 
 you in private. The insensibility, and 
 •remarkable indifference, of which you 
 make profession, give too much of- 
 fence to all the ladies of the court, not 
 to excite my curiosity concerning a 
 conduct and proceeding, w^hich, with- 
 
23 
 
 out dispute, conceals some secret mys- 
 tery. You are in love, ap Thomas, I 
 have found out the key to decypher 
 those sentiments, which with such art, 
 you so carefully endeavour to disguise; 
 but I will not be indebted to my own 
 penetration only, for the knowledge of 
 a secret, which is rather due to my 
 goodness towards you and the obliga- 
 tion you ov^e me upon that score/^ 
 
 This discourse, which ap Thomas 
 so little expected, put him into so 
 great a disorder, that he w^as utterly 
 at a loss how to behave himself, and 
 blushed to that degree, that his confu- 
 sion appeared visible in his counte- 
 nance. This the amorous Queen ob- 
 served, and interpreted to her own ad- 
 vantage, " speak," said she, seeing he 
 persisted in an absolute silence ; 
 *' speak of this . unseasonable con- 
 straint : my friendship for you will 
 dispense with that respectful distance 
 
^4 
 
 you keep, and whicli is so very oppo- 
 site to my desires/^ — 
 
 " I do nothing but what I ought/' 
 replied ap Thomas, " 1 am so sensible 
 of the duty I owe your Majesty, to 
 be so presumptuous, as to dare to en- 
 tertain her with the affairs of my 
 heart. As to the rest, my secrets are 
 all bounded in endeavouring to find out 
 the means of making my Sovereigns 
 sensible of the veneration and respect 
 I have for them, and the ardency of 
 my zeal in every thing that concerns 
 them/' 
 
 • The Queen, who w^as very little 
 satisfied with this answer, would in- 
 fallibly have exacted from him one 
 more positive, had not the King, who 
 had been looking for her, come hastily 
 up to her, with that air of eagerness, 
 with w^hich her presence always in- 
 spired him. Ap Thomas withdrew, 
 out of respect, and retired ; nor was 
 
S5 
 
 he at all sorry for the niterruption of a 
 canversation, the consequence of which, 
 he began to feel with trembling. — . 
 His eyes were opened on a sudden, 
 and, by the Queen-s visible concern, 
 and earnest manner of expret^sing her- 
 self, he plainly discovered a great part 
 of the sentiments of her heart ; and, 
 from what source that concern pro- 
 ceeded, lie was alilicted with the 
 greatest anguish of mind, if the idea 
 he had conceived was real, nothing in 
 the Moild could prevent his falling un- 
 der the most fatal circumstances. As 
 he had always made a firm and inviola- 
 ble resolution, never to be guilty of 
 any action that might stain ins honour, 
 or cast the least refleclion on his un- 
 tainted reputation ; in order to preserve 
 that worthy character, he, from thence 
 forwards, verv carefully avoided all 
 occasions or opportunities of renewing 
 those dangerous conrersations. never 
 VOL. I. c 
 
f6 
 
 more going into the Queen's presence, 
 except when his indispensable duty, 
 or some particular command of the 
 King's, obliged him to be there. 
 
 The penetration of the Queen was 
 too great, and her heart was too deeply 
 concerned in this new manner of pro- 
 ceeding to leave room for the least 
 doubt what were the cruel motives 
 for such conduct. She immediately 
 concluded, that it conveyed along with 
 it a face of unpardonable contempt, 
 and that she was slighted ; a thought 
 she could not bear with any patience. 
 
 But those hearts which are brought 
 under Cupid's yoke, are inspired with 
 hopes and fears, just as that little god 
 pleases, so, after having for awhile torn 
 the Queen's with insupportable dis- 
 quiets and perplexities, he presented 
 to her view some more soothing and 
 
'27 
 
 agreeable ideas. She flattered herself 
 that the care ap Thomas took to avoid 
 being alone with her, was only the 
 feeble and impotent efTorts of a stag- 
 gering, and half-vanquished virtue ; and 
 that, though he was in an extacy of 
 delight at the thought of that happi- 
 ness, of which she had partially shown 
 him, yet, nevertheless, the hopes and 
 prospects of what he might aspire to, 
 had not so far dazzled his eyes, as to 
 cause him to pass beyond the bounds 
 of that respectful distance, and the 
 awful duty which he had hitherto so 
 worthily and so punctually observed, 
 without violent agitations. 
 
 Her favourite lady of honour, Lady 
 Lichfield, who was privy to her pas- 
 sion, from the very first moment in 
 which she began to feel it, after hav- 
 ing done all she possibly could to 
 c 2 
 
destroy it in ils infancy, was at last 
 obliged to assist her in carrying it on. 
 
 This dextrous and artful confidante 
 soothed and fortified her hopes by lay- 
 iner before her the great advantaoies and 
 the glory, which the too happy ap 
 Thomas ought to hope for and expect 
 in the embraces of so charming a per- 
 son : she insisted upon tlie necessity 
 of letting him know the happiness 
 which awaited him; a happiness, to 
 which he, doubtless, never durst as- 
 pire, or ever dream of; and the Queen, 
 who was herself resolved to follow 
 the advice Lady Lichfield gave her, 
 eagerly sought an opportunity to put it 
 into execution ; and, in effect, a few 
 days after, in spite of all the precau- 
 tions which ap Thomas had taken to 
 prevent it, she found means to explain 
 herself to him in such a manner, and 
 
29 
 
 4hat in the presence of the whole 
 court, as to leave him not the least 
 room anv longer to doubt of the affair. 
 
 As the Queen one day returned from 
 walking, she was followed by a num- 
 ber of ladies into her apartment, where 
 ap Thomas was obliged to be in at- 
 tendance upon the King, who was 
 there also. The conversation was at 
 first general ; a long discourse having 
 been held concerning a fete, at which 
 all the ladies were to be present habit- 
 ed like faires. The next theme that 
 was started among this illustrious as- 
 sembly, was relating to an extraordi- 
 nary circumstance which had lately 
 happened at court; but that was 
 soon laid aside ; for the Queen, who 
 never lost sight of her principal design, 
 very adroitly turned the conversation 
 upon the subject of love, and pro- 
 posed a question of gallantry. 
 c S 
 
30 
 
 " I would know,'^ said she, address- 
 ing herself to the King, " on which 
 side lies the greatest obligation; on 
 that of the c:allant, who makes the for- 
 tune of the lady who is the object of 
 his love, or of him who owes his ow-n 
 to the person by whom he is beloved, 
 and thereby receives an undoubtable 
 proof of the love she inspires ?" 
 
 " For my part," replied the King, *' I 
 find not the least difficulty in deciding 
 this question ; it is so natural for us to 
 delight in obliging, and more especially 
 those whom we love, that, in my 
 opinion, the advantage lies entirely on 
 t^e side of him who lays the obliga- 
 tion ; he acquir'js, from thence, a 
 double right over that heart which be 
 desires to touch ; gratitude and ac- 
 knowledgement cannot fail of making 
 one value the source from v» hence the 
 obligations proceed." 
 
31 
 
 *' This sentiment," answered Lady 
 Lichfield, " is indeed worthy of such a 
 King as you ; but permit me to tell 
 you, sire, that your high birth and 
 fortune have put you in a condition of 
 tasting the sweetness of the contrary 
 proposition : I will readily agree with 
 you, that nothing flatters a great and 
 elevated soul so much, as that libe- 
 rality and generosity, which is so na« 
 tural to it ; but, at the same time, I 
 maintain, that he, who receives the 
 obligation, must needs be more con- 
 vinced of the force of those sentim.ents, 
 which he has inspired ; and, by so 
 much the easier, as the more love 
 produces in our favour, things difficult 
 to the common sort of people, the 
 more ought the love of ourselves to be 
 flattered for our effort in that conde- 
 
 scension.'^ 
 
 c 4 
 
iJ2 
 
 Lady Liclifield readily imagined, 
 th^st ap Thomas, by the precarious 
 Situation of his cTcumstances and for- 
 tune, would have agreed with her in 
 her opinion : and therefore asked him 
 what he thought of those different 
 sentiments. 
 
 *' Madam,^' said he, " notwithstand- 
 iiig I find an infinite pleasure in owing 
 isli 1 have to my sovereign's bounty, 
 yet, as to what concerns a mistress I 
 have verv dilferent thouohts ; and, as 
 my circumstances will permit me to 
 otrer her nothing but an unfeigned 
 love, so my pride will never suffer me 
 to chuse any, but one who has nothing 
 but her heart to bestow upon me/' 
 
 The Queen, who heard this, easily 
 comprehended, that ap Thomas had 
 
33 
 
 answered the intent with which she 
 had proposed the question, much 
 better than the questiofi itself, and 
 therefore commenced the discourse 
 again, and, with an inimitable vivacity, 
 said, " I should scarce have gone 
 about to decide the question I myself 
 proposed, had the example of the 
 very gods themselves left us any room 
 for su«:pense, how we ought to think 
 upon this subject. Venus and Diana 
 placed their whole felicity in Adonis 
 and Endymion, notwithstanding the 
 vast distance between them. It is 
 true, thnt Atis, who had the same 
 sentiments as ap Thomas has, was 
 justly punished for refusing a fortune 
 which would have made him com- 
 pletely happy ; I, for my part,^^ con- 
 tinned she, " who am often much in- 
 dined to lay obligations upon people, 
 find that Cybela's resentment, with 
 abundance of reason, ought to fall on 
 c 5 
 
34 
 
 the head of an ungrateful man, who 
 put it out of her power to exercise so 
 noble and so generous a sentiment." 
 
 As she made an end of saying 
 these last words, by a veny severe look, 
 full of indignation and resentment, she 
 gave ap Thomas to understand, that he 
 niiglit expect the fate of the unhappy 
 Atis, if he presumed to follow his 
 example. 
 
 A^ it began to grow late, the com- 
 pany withdrew, leaving the Queen to 
 take that repose, of which she stood 
 so much in need. She was no sooner 
 left to her liberty, than, addressing 
 herself to Lady Lichfield, she said, 
 
 '- Did you not take notice, with 
 what care ap Thomas evaded the idea, 
 which I would have had him compre- 
 hend ? It is done, and I am no longer 
 
56 
 
 able to exist under this cruel uncer- 
 tainty ! I am determined to give him 
 so clear an interpretation of what sen- 
 timents I have, and of what I suffer 
 upon his account, that it shall b« 
 wholly out of his power to raiscon^ 
 strue the meaning of my words. If 
 he answers my passion, how exqui- 
 sitely great will be my happiness ! If he 
 proves ungrateful, with what bitterness 
 will the remainder of my life be at- 
 tended ! But I shall have, at least, the 
 poor consolation of dragging him down 
 the same precipice, from which his 
 insensibility shall have cast me. I 
 am fully resolved to-morrow to explain 
 myself; let it be your care to give him 
 orders, to be here to receive my com- 
 mands. 
 
 c 6 CHAP. 
 
:^6 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 After this manner it was, that tlic 
 Queen suffered herself to be hurried 
 away by the violence of that passion, 
 which rent and consumed her heart: 
 she no longer made any scruple of be- 
 traying a husl^and, whose tenderness 
 and complaisance deserved quite a dif- 
 ferent treatment. The King doated 
 upon her with a passion not to be ex* 
 pressed, and he thought himself com- 
 pletely happy : next to the Queen the 
 person for whom he had the greatest 
 affection, and in whom he placed the 
 
ci7 
 
 greatest confidence, was ap Thonrias : 
 he, very deservedly, found in him so" 
 distinguishable a merit, and a zeal for 
 all his concerns so disinterested and 
 uncommon, that, without any reserve, 
 he consulted him in his most important 
 and most secret affairs : and ap Tho- 
 mas, on the other side, would have 
 sacrificed his ^own life a thousand 
 times, to testify his great acknow- 
 ledgements and fidelity to his gracious 
 lord : but this happy tranquillity was 
 soon troubled by that unseasonable and 
 tyrannic passion, which raged in the 
 bosom of the love-sick Queen. 
 
 According to the resolution she had 
 taken, she caused ap Thomas t.o be 
 conducted to her apartment, her orders 
 being so expressly positive, that not- 
 withstanding ail the repugnance he 
 had to obey them, he could by no 
 means avoid it. There it was, that^ 
 
5S 
 
 without hesitation, or the least apolo- 
 gy, forgetting that modest reserve 
 which ought to accompany her sex, 
 she made him an open declaration of 
 her love, of its whole progress and 
 violence. 
 
 " I know," continued she, " that a 
 confession of this nature is too strong, 
 and too gross, to proceed out of the 
 mouth of a person in my station ; but 
 by how much the greater is the extre- 
 mity of its being so, by so much the 
 more ought your heart to be touched 
 with those sentiments which have 
 forced me to such a procedure : as to 
 the rest," added she with a more 
 haughty tone and air, " it will be 
 extremely dangerous to you, to have 
 been made privy to my passion, with- 
 out answering it as you ought/^ 
 
39 
 
 Ap Thomas utterly confounded and 
 astonished at the Queen's discourse, 
 and at her manner of deliverinor her 
 last words, stood, for some moments, 
 with his eyes fixed on the ground, in 
 the posture of one wholly irresolute 
 and undetermined what answer to 
 make ; but that frankness and ingenu- 
 ous sincerity of which he made pro- 
 fession, would not suffer him to be 
 long silent. 
 
 After a considerable pause, " I am,^^ 
 said he " most sensible of the ines- 
 timable value of the happiness your 
 Majesty offers me ; a happiness suffi- 
 cient to render me completely glorious ! 
 But I, who am only born to serve you 
 at an awful distance, am constrained 
 to think as the greatest of misfortunes, 
 that which would be esteemed as the 
 most sovereign felicity to any other. 
 
40 
 
 This sentiment is so deeply engraven 
 on my heart, that what effect soever 
 the confession may produce, nothing 
 can possibly ever stagger my resolu- 
 tions. 
 
 The Queen highly incensed at the 
 noble frankness of this answer; and, 
 far from taking advantage of returning 
 to her duty from so rare an example of 
 virtue, she abandoned herself to all 
 those inhumn sentiments, that rage 
 and resentment could suggest to her 
 
 ima2:ination. 
 
 >^ 
 
 " Thou knowcst my weakness,^' said 
 she, " but never hope to triumph with 
 impunity over my shame, into which 
 thy unjust, and ungenerous refusal 
 has precipitated me I Thou shalt as- 
 suredly feel the effects of my hatred, 
 since thou hast rendered thyself un* 
 worthy of my love I" 
 
41 
 
 \V~hen she had said these words, she 
 retired, in the utmost fury, into her 
 closet, violently flinging the door after 
 her, leaving ap Thomas in inexpressi- 
 ble astonishment. 
 
 Being somewhat come to himself, 
 as he was advancing towards his lodg- 
 ings, overwhelmed with dubious and 
 perplexing thoughts, dreading the fatal 
 consequences of this unhappy adven- 
 ture, he met the King, who was going 
 to the Queen, to desire her to take a 
 walk with him. The King would 
 have had him gone back, but he ex- 
 cused himself upon the pretext of hav- 
 some urgent business to do. 
 
 He had certainly much better have 
 been a witness to a conversation which 
 was going to be held at bis expence ; 
 his presence would have prevented the 
 Queen from filling the soul of her ere- 
 
4!2 
 
 duloiis husband with suspicions. In ef- 
 fect, the King had no sooner entered her 
 closet, but that dangerous enemy began 
 to make most bitter complaints against 
 ap Thomas, and did all she could to 
 make the King comprehend, that the 
 many compliments and arguments of 
 profound respect, which that faithful 
 domestic had always expressed for her, 
 had something in them of a more ten- 
 der nature, than the bare assurances 
 of an ordinary zeal. 
 
 " My lord,^^ said she, " I would 
 very willingly have concealed from you 
 the concern with which my mind is 
 agitated, as likewise the insolence of 
 your favourite, but I protest, I have 
 been under so great a surprize, at the 
 thoughts of those things he has been 
 endeavouring to {make me understand, 
 that 1 was not able to keep within my 
 breast the just resentment his rashness 
 
43 
 
 has caused. You yourself might have 
 read ni his countenance the emotions 
 of his soul; and though his presump- 
 tion did not reach so far as to declare 
 tbe violence of the passion he has for 
 me, yet he said enough to explain his 
 thoughts, and to convince me of his 
 intentions." 
 
 The King, who was naturally in- 
 clinable to be jealous and diffident, was 
 touched to the quick with this artful 
 discourse: he began to reflect upon 
 the disturbance and confusion which 
 he had observed in ap Thomases looks, 
 and made no scruple of believing him 
 guilty of a treachery of the blackest 
 and most unpardonable nature. 
 
 He knew not at first what resolution 
 to take: every circumstance prompt- 
 ed him to take a most terrible venge- 
 ance : his honour, attacked him in &q 
 
44 : 
 
 sensible a part ; his confidence abused, ' 
 and his freindship basely betrayed, j 
 seemed to have effaced from his heart 
 all his past goodness and clemency, \ 
 and to have changed hi& usual modera- 
 tion into fury. 
 
 *' Madam," said he, as he went i 
 away, " you shall assuredly be re- ; 
 venged for this affront, which equally 
 concerns us both." ] 
 
 \ 
 
 He was no sooner in his own apart- | 
 ment alone, but ap Thomas's seeming ! 
 ingratitude, presented itself to his 1 
 imagination in the worst and darkest 
 colours, inspired his breast with such ^ 
 violent emotions of rage and resent- \ 
 ment, that he could scarce suppress ^ 
 them; but, on the other side, the long l 
 experience he had of the probity and 
 honorable character of his favorite, ' 
 cast him into an irresolution much 
 
4j 
 
 easier to be imagined Hian described ; 
 and havino; also had sufficient time to 
 reflect, that the Queen's account was 
 hitherto grounded upon no surer foun- 
 dation than bare suspicion, which, 
 notwithstanding the plausible appear- 
 ance of its probability, might still be 
 thought dubious, he resolved therefore 
 to be thoroughly confirmed in an affair, 
 which so nearly concerned him, before 
 he wholly gave way to the dictates of 
 passion. 
 
 After having maturely weighed se- 
 veral expedients, he was of opinion, 
 that the best method he could take, 
 was to make as if he determined to 
 banish ap Thomas out of his domini- 
 ons ; not in the least doubting, but 
 that, if this unfortunate gentleman 
 was conscious of any guilt, he would, 
 without murmuring, acquiesce to that 
 sentence, which he was about to ac- 
 
46 
 
 quaint him with by a messenger, as 
 well knowing, that an offence of that 
 nature merited a treatment much more 
 rigorous: but, on the contrary, if he 
 was innocent, he would try all methods 
 to justify himself from that unworthy 
 accusation. With this consideration 
 the King immediately sent Lord Broke, 
 to let him know his pleasure and reso- 
 lution, concerning his banishment. 
 
 Ap Thomas was not surprized at this 
 order, though it gave him great afflic- 
 tion : and, without hesitation he firmly 
 determined rather to lose his life, than 
 submit to a sentence which would in- 
 fallibly leave his innocence unjustified, 
 and always suspected. 
 
 By the earnest arguments and in- 
 treaties he used, he prevailed with 
 Lord Broke to intercede for him with 
 the Kine:, that he might have the 
 
47 
 
 liberty granted him to go and cast 
 himself at his feet, and there justify 
 himself, or die with regret for having 
 fallen under his displeasure. 
 
 Lord Broke, who was his inti- 
 mate and sincere friend, painted ap 
 Thomases resolution and despair so 
 naturally and in such pathetic terms, 
 that the King, who sought nothing 
 more than to be pressed and impor- 
 tuned on that subject, at last consented, 
 permitting him to come into his pre- 
 sence to plead his own defence, and, 
 if possible, to prove his innocence: 
 but to intimidate him, he assumed a 
 severe countenance, ready to reproach 
 him with a crime, the truth of which 
 he could not help doubting. 
 
 During this interval, ap Thomas, 
 who was fully persuaded that the Queen 
 had exasperated the King to the high- 
 
est CKtreniity of fury, was in the 
 greatest perplexity and agony imagina- 
 ble. With despair he foresaw that it 
 would be altogether impossible to at- 
 tempt any thing for its justification, 
 without turninji all the inalignitv of 
 the Queen's accusation upon herself: 
 but at the same time to turn the dag- 
 ger's point to his sovereign's heart ! 
 to revenge his Avrongs in so mean, so 
 cowardly, so ungenerous a manner ! 
 to create confusion, and an irreconcila- 
 ble breach between them, when his 
 duty, and his gratitude engage him by 
 such sacred ties ! all these reflections, 
 so natural to a man of honour, obliged 
 him to conceal an odious and de- 
 tested truth, and to leave his justifica- 
 tion to his .innocence alone. 
 
 With this noble and generous resolu- 
 tion, which he as resolutely maintained, 
 he presented himself before his sove- 
 
49 
 
 reign. It was to no purpose for the 
 King to endeavour to raise bis resent- 
 ment, by uttering the most cruel and 
 bitter reproaches; nothing he could 
 say being capable of shocking his intre- 
 pid soul, or of staggering him in his 
 glorious determination. 
 
 Almost drowned in tears, he cast 
 himself at his feet : — " I am guilty 
 my liege/^ said he, " not of the base 
 and unpardonable crime, of which 1 
 have been accused, but of not benri 
 so happy as to have found sufficient 
 occasions of giving you proofs of my 
 sincerity, and of the excess of my 
 zeal: had you been entirely satisfied 
 with the full extent of my unfeigned 
 integrity, and unfeigned hdelity, you 
 would, doubtless, have yourself de- 
 fended, and justified me, against all 
 suspicions, even against those which 
 carry the face of the greatest proba- 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
60 
 
 bility. Punish me, my liege," con^ 
 tinued he, with the utmost vehe- 
 mence, " punish me for the disorder 
 and uneasiness my misfortune cieates 
 in your soul ! In that indeed 1 am truly 
 culpable : but cease I beseech you to 
 reproach and accuse me of a crime, 
 the very thought of which makes my 
 soul shudder with horror ! 1 never lifted 
 up my eyes towards the Queen but 
 with the profoundest awe and venera- 
 tion ; and if my unhappy destiny had 
 ever made me conceive the least incli- 
 nation or desire, too presumptuous for 
 me to entertain, death itself would 
 soon have stifled it, and put an end to 
 my weakness, and my confusion." 
 
 The King could in no wise be satis- 
 fied with these arguments, which 
 appeared to him so mysterious and 
 obscure. 
 
6i 
 
 '' You still persist in abusing xxiy 
 goodness," said he, " in endeavouring 
 to impose upon me by the appearance 
 of virtue : but I am too much injured 
 and offended to be contented with 
 words, which may equally serve both 
 for the innocent and the guilty : I 
 must have more convincing proof, or 
 prepare yourself for the etiects of my 
 just resentment." 
 
 " Yes, my liege, 1 will satisfy you," 
 replied ap Thomas, " since you put 
 my discretion to so cruel a trial; I will 
 ingenuously avow, that I love, I adore 
 the most perfect work, the masterpiece 
 of nature, and that I have done so for 
 several years; a pleasing, soothing, 
 mystery, conceals from the eyes of the 
 whole universe, the most faithful, the 
 most tender, and the most inviolable 
 flame the world ever produced/' 
 d2 
 
" Is it possible,'^ cried the King, " Is 
 it possible that you can entertain so 
 violent a passion for any but th^ 
 Queen ? Ah ! what would I give to be 
 thoroughly convinced of your inno- 
 cence ! Explain to me this mystery, 
 which, in justifying you, will restore 
 back to you all my former love and 
 friendship V 
 
 "Ah! Sire," replied ap Thomas, 
 ** what do you ask of me ? exact not 
 from me the confession of a secret, 
 upon which the future happiness of my 
 whole life depends, and which would 
 render me guilty of the basest and 
 most ungenerous indiscretion in the 
 w orld ! content yourself, 1 beseech 
 you, with knowing, that I am engaged 
 to her whom I adore, by such solemn, 
 endearing, and inviolable bonds, that 
 nothing but death itself is capable of 
 breaking." 
 
53 
 
 *' But who will answer/^ interrupted 
 the King, "for the truth of what you 
 assert ^'^ 
 
 "My honor and my faith/^ rephed 
 ap Thomas : *' depend upon them, my 
 Sovereign, and do not furce me, I beg 
 of you, to commit a real treachery, in 
 order to expiate an imaginary one, 
 whereby, in endeavouring to wash 
 away th-e stain of a false crime which 
 has been laid to my charge, I shall 
 eternally forfeit my honor, by violat- 
 ing and breaking through the most 
 solemn ties in nature/' 
 
 N^^twithstanding the King began to 
 stagger, he would certainly have fully 
 satisfied his curiosity, but that one of 
 his attendants, at that very instant, 
 came hastily in, to inform him, that 
 a messenger had arrived to transact 
 business of importance with him. 
 D a 
 
" Retire, ap Thomas/* said th* 
 King to him ; '' go, and prepare to 
 make me the discovery and confession, 
 which I absolutely insist upon, and 
 from which nothing shall excuse you : 
 it is at that price I set the liberty I 
 siitfer you to enjoy : in the meanwhile 
 vou mav continue at court : 1 will 
 prevail upon the Queen to let you 
 stay.'' 
 
 The generous ap Thomas, whom an 
 excess of fortune's liberality had ren- 
 dered unfortunate, departed to his 
 own home, full of acknowledgement, 
 for the o;reatness of the King's bounty, 
 on one hand ; but, on the other, over- 
 whelmed with grief and perplexing 
 reflexions. He, without difficulty, 
 foresaw, that the Qneen would never 
 stop at this her first attempt ; nor did 
 he make any doubt, but that in the 
 end, he must infallibly fall a victim to 
 
66 
 
 t!ie redoubled efforts of so very dan- 
 gerous an enemy ; and this tormenting 
 idea caused such violent agitations, as 
 banished all repose. He passed the 
 night under the most cruel doubts and 
 apprehensions ; and the next day, when 
 the hour came which obliged him to 
 repair to the palace, the same agoniz- 
 ing thoughts accompanied him thither, 
 without being able to discover in Hen- 
 ry^s countenance, whether or not he 
 still retained the same fatal prejudice 
 he had before. 
 
 After having performed all the du- 
 ties of his charge, he was about to 
 return home, when in the way he 
 received a letter from a person, who 
 retired with so much haste, or rather 
 precipitation, that lie could by no 
 means learn from whence it came. 
 D 4 
 
oG 
 
 He made all baste he could, tliat he 
 might solve this mystery, and was no 
 sooner arrivx-d in his apartment, but, 
 opening the billet, he found these 
 words : — 
 
 *' For this once you have triumphed ; 
 but hope not to be always victorious ; 
 resentUicnt and indignation are still 
 preparing fresh encounters for you: 
 you will undoubtedly fall their victim, 
 except you have recourse to love to 
 espouse your cause : Think on what 
 you deserve, and from thence you may 
 know how to guess at what you ought 
 to fear : j^ellona or V enus are prepared 
 to receive you ; take your choice.'^ 
 
 Ap Thorr^as had no great difficulty to 
 coHiprehend that this billet came from 
 the Queen ; but the alternate propo- 
 
57 
 
 sals which were made him therein, 
 could be no inducement to stagger him 
 in. the just resolution, he had taken. 
 
 That princess had made a show of 
 being appeased, when the King had 
 given her an account of the whole 
 conversation he had. held with the per- 
 son whom she was endeavouring to 
 ruin. She had, at her leisure, seriously 
 reflected on her hasty proceedings, and 
 with what promptitude she had accused 
 a man she so ardently loved, and how 
 little prospect there was of touching 
 his heart by such cruel and inhuman 
 methods. She nevertheless was glad 
 that she had not carried her accusation 
 so fer, as the violence of her passion 
 would at first have forced her to do ; 
 and uow made no manner of scruple 
 m imagining, that perhaps she had 
 laid a wrong construction upon ap 
 Thomas's expressions, which, it was 
 D 6 
 
6S 
 
 probable, might proceed purely from 
 an excess of zeal and respect. 
 
 The King, who desired nothing but 
 to enjoy a calm and quiet mind, was 
 exceedingly pleased to leave her in a 
 state of sedateness and tranquillity; 
 but tlie confession ap Thomas had made 
 of his entertaining a secret amour, 
 would infallibly have raised another 
 furious storm in the breast of the 
 Queen, had not her heart flattered her 
 imagination with the idea uf his hav- 
 ing made use of that artifice, purely 
 to disengage himself adroitly from the 
 too pressing importunity and curiosity 
 of the Kine: nor could she avoid beine 
 sensibly touched at=.the discretion he 
 had shown, in regard of a person 
 whose proceedings deserved so little at 
 his hands. Her soul was softened 
 with the reflections of an action so 
 generous, and she immediately began 
 
59 
 
 to be inspired both with compassion 
 aiad acknowledgments. But she did 
 not long entertain those just and com- 
 mendable sentiments. She had flatter- 
 ed herself with fancying, that ap Tho- 
 mas would have taken advantage 
 of the many opportunities she gave 
 him of addressing himself to her in 
 private; but, on the contrary, having 
 taken notice of the small effect her 
 note had made upon his heart, and 
 the great care he took to avoid her, 
 she soon felt her former fury begin- 
 ning to revive in her soul and with 
 greater violence than before, as it was 
 increased by that fiend jealousy; inso- 
 much, that soon returning to her first 
 revengeful design, she had recourse to 
 the basest and most unworthy artifices 
 imaginable, in order to bring them 
 about. 
 
60 
 
 That expedient which first present- 
 ed itself to lier imagination, seemed 
 tojier to be irresistibly infallible. She 
 doubted not, if she feigned herself to 
 be pregnant, but that the King, charm- 
 ed and overjoyed at that welcome 
 news, w.ould grant to the impetuosity 
 of her. desires, whatsoever she should 
 pretend to wish for, and that by these 
 means she could n.ot fail of pouring 
 down inevitable destruction upon the 
 head of that ungrateful man, wh® 
 slighted and despised her love. 
 
 It is very easy to imagine the trans- 
 ports the King felt, when this subtle 
 and deceitful woman inspired him with 
 so flattering an expectation : his passion 
 for her increased every moment, and 
 his heart but too sensible of a blessing 
 he was long wishing for, redoubled hi$ 
 complaisance towards her, and made 
 him endeavour, by the most magnificent 
 
61 
 
 entertainments and diversions of gal- 
 lantry, to return her some share of the 
 great pleasure she gave him. 
 
 For a considerable time nothing was 
 to be seen but feasts and festivals; and 
 every one strove, with the greatest 
 emulation^, to manifest to the King 
 how sensible a part all his subjects, bore 
 in his satisfaction, and happiness: ap 
 Thomas alone, among all those num- 
 Ijers, was constrained, purely through 
 decency and good manners, to join in 
 that universal rejoicing.. He readily 
 surmised, that this conception, this 
 breeding of the Queen's, whether real 
 or counterfeit, was only the forerunner 
 of his ruin: he was perfectly well ac- 
 quainted with Henry^s character; and 
 from the revengeful temper,, and the 
 malignity of Elizabeth, he had great 
 cause to fear all things. He had but 
 too fiital proofs of the truth of these 
 
62 
 
 conjectures; and that dangerous female 
 was too successful in the advantage she 
 took of the increase of the King's pas- 
 sion and complaisance for her, and with 
 which she had so artfully inspired him. 
 
 One day, as the King was with her, 
 pouring out his protestations, that now 
 nothing was wanting to compleat his 
 happiness, since he was upoh the 
 point of having so dear a pledge of her 
 love; " I cannot persuade myself,'^ 
 said she, with a languishing look, 
 " that you can possibly have so ex- 
 '' traordinary a tenderness and passion 
 " for me, as you take such pains iii 
 *' endeavouring to make me beheve: 
 " the heir you are in expectation of, 
 •• is all that pleases you in me: of this 
 *' I have but too plain demonstration, 
 *' by the small regard you have ex- 
 " pressed to the complaints I some 
 " time since made to you against ap 
 
0.3 
 
 *' Thomas. That insolent favourite of 
 
 " your's triumphs over me; and the 
 
 " favour you shew that minion, con- 
 
 *' strains me to suffer affronts of so 
 
 " gross a nature, and to seem satisfied, 
 
 " purely to please you ; for, in short, 
 
 " I have no longer any room to doubt 
 
 " of his presumptuous temerity: his 
 
 " eyes have two clearly confirmed 
 
 " what he would utter with his mouth ; 
 
 " but you have suffered yourself to be 
 
 " deluded by a few fallacious and de- 
 
 " ceitful words, and have taken that 
 
 " fictitious and ridiculous story of the 
 
 '' imaginary amour he invented, as a 
 
 *' sufficient excuse, 
 
 *' For what reason else, my Lord^ 
 ^' should he have concealed from your 
 " knowledge the real object of this 
 " secret passion, had not his audaci- 
 *' ousness inspired him to entertain 
 *' that passion for me ? It it naturally 
 
64 
 
 " probable, that he could be able so 
 *' to blind the eyes of a whole court, 
 " who are so attentive in observing all 
 " his motions, as to prevent the dis- 
 " covery of his assiduity and addresses 
 " to that person who was really mis- 
 " tress of his heart? Cease therefore,'* 
 continued she, " to let yourself be so- 
 " grosely imposed upon, and make a 
 t' thorough examination into a mys- 
 " tery, wherein your honour is so nearly 
 " concerned : compel your favourite to 
 *'- name the person with whom he is 
 " in love: if he complies it will be 
 *' easy to distinguish .truth from fiction ; 
 " but if he refuses,, and continues ob- 
 *' stinate in his silence, you may be 
 *' assured, that it is I myself who am 
 " the sole object of his rash and pre ^ 
 " sumptuous passion/^ 
 
 Henry, during this discourse, by 
 examining within himself into the pro- 
 
6j 
 
 bability of every circumstance, began 
 to be so fully convinced/that he blamed 
 and condemned his weakness, in being 
 so credulous as to give ear and be led 
 away with such fallacious appearances. 
 This reflection hav!Ui>; taken a sudden 
 possession of his mind he said to her, 
 " You are entirely in the right, Ma- 
 *' dam; my too easy blindness had led 
 *^ me into error: but, heaven be prais- 
 '* ed, your counsels will assist me in 
 '' repairing my fault; and I should, 
 ** before now, have penetrated into this 
 *' secret which appears of such im- 
 '" portance to me, if you had nc^t 
 '' seemed to be cured of your former 
 *' suspicions. I will force ap Thomas 
 " to explain the whole matter in very 
 *' clear terms; and if he makes the 
 *• least hesitation in giving me tb^t 
 '" satisfaction, be must certainly ex- 
 '' pect to feel the most violent effects 
 " of my just resentment/^ 
 
66 
 
 When this conversation was ended, 
 the King left her, and went to give or- 
 ders fur making preparations for a grand 
 fete. 
 
 After a nawgnificent entertainment, 
 they retired into the forest adjoining, 
 to partake of a rural ball: the ladies 
 were habited in extreme magnificence, 
 which added new charms to their na- 
 tural beauty ; and the nobility upon 
 that occasion, emulated each other in 
 the gallant appearance of tiieir magni- 
 ficient habits. Indeed, nothing could 
 have added to the beauty of this no- 
 ble assemblage, or have rendered it 
 morp compleat, but the presence of 
 the lovely Lady Murray: but a slight 
 indisposition had confined her to her 
 country retirement, nor was she sorry 
 for having that pretext to excuse her 
 absence. 
 
67 
 
 The whole company were dispersed 
 here and there in every part of the 
 forest: but the King, that day, forgot 
 t!ie great love and inclination he natu- 
 rally used to have for. that sport; and 
 ordering ap Thomas to follow him, he 
 went to a fountain side, where he 
 sat down, and commanded his favour- 
 ite to do the same. His air was ex- 
 tremely gloomy, and he appeared to 
 be thoughtful, with his eyes full of 
 indignation and choler; nor was it very 
 diiFicult for the unhappy ap Thomas 
 to comprehend, that he was going to 
 stand the brunt of a new storm. At 
 last the King broke silence, and, in an 
 angry tone, fiercely said, 
 
 " It is not just nor reasonable that you 
 " should any longer disturb the happi- 
 " ness and repose of my life. The hopes 
 " I am in of soon seeing myself blessed 
 " with an heir, would set me upon the 
 " high^est summit of earthly felicity, 
 
68 
 
 " did not you, and you alone, poison 
 
 " all its sweetness. You must take 
 
 '' your choice/^ continued he, in a 
 still more elevated tone of voice, " ei- 
 
 *' ther to lose my friendship, my con- 
 
 " fidence, and perhaps your life, or, 
 
 " without hesitation, to tell me the 
 
 " name of the person who is mistress 
 
 " of your affections, with the whole 
 
 " history of your amour. My honour 
 
 '* demands your ebedience, since a 
 
 " suspicion can never be effaced out 
 
 " of the soul of a sovereign, by any 
 
 " thing but blood or sincerity. Speak ;| 
 
 *' therefore^ and render yourself either j 
 
 " worthy of my friendship, or of my ' 
 
 " hatred/' \ 
 
 " Sire,'^ answered ap Thomas re- ; 
 spectfully, " I would much sooner con- 
 *•' sent to lose my life than to discover 
 *' my secret, if by my death I could ^ 
 " convince you of my innocence, • 
 
69 
 
 Your goodness staggers mv constan- 
 cy, more than the horrors of the 
 cruellest tortures can possibly do. 
 It fills my soul with despair, to see 
 that my unhappy destiny makes me 
 the fatal instrument of disturbing 
 your tranquillity. To you it is I owe 
 my all ; and yet, by a false represent- 
 ation, I appear guilty of a base in- 
 gratitude. Well, my King, to con- 
 vince you of my untainted fidelity, 
 of my sincerity, and of my grateful 
 acknowledgements for your bounties, 
 I am going to make you a declara- 
 tion of the only thing upon which 
 the happiness of my whole life en- 
 tirely depends: but if I may be 
 permitted to exact from you a so- 
 lemn oath, never to reveal to any 
 one whomsoever the secret I shall 
 commit to your trust, I shall esteem 
 that condescension as the greatest 
 of all the innumerable favours you 
 
70 
 " have so graciously bestowed upon 
 
 " Fear nothing," replied Henry inn- 
 patiently, *' I swear by all I esteem 
 " most sacred, that I will keep what- 
 *' ever you shall tell me, with an in- 
 " violable secrecy." 
 
 ** Since you have the bounty to give 
 *' me such an assurance," answered ap 
 Thomas, " I am ready, by a sincere 
 *' and faithful confession, to set your 
 *' mind at ease, and to restore your 
 " heart to its wonted calmness." 
 
 At these words, after having con- 
 tinued silent for a moment or two, to 
 recal to his memory some particulars, 
 he began his relation in the following 
 terms. 
 
71 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 *' By the consequence of the secret 
 which I ain going to inripart to you, 
 you will, doubtless, acknowledge, my 
 liege, what confidence I have in your 
 generosity, and how sincerely 1 am de- 
 voted to you ; since in so doing, 1 both 
 forsret and violate my most sacred vows, 
 and betray the loveliest, the most di- 
 vine of women, who has not her equal 
 in the universe, and purely to contri- 
 bute to your repose. Your majesty 
 will be more easily convinced of this 
 truth, when you are informed, that 
 
72 
 
 notwithstanding the tender love and 
 friendship there ever was between my 
 brother and me, yet he is wholly ig- 
 norant of any part of this sacred mys- 
 tery. Prepare yourself, therefore, if 
 you please, to hear me make frequent 
 mention of several public occurrences 
 with which your majesty is perfectly 
 acquainted; but those circumstances 
 bear a connection so very necessary 
 to my particular adventures, that I 
 cannot conveniently omit any one of 
 them, 
 
 " I confess then, Sire, that I was ac- 
 quainted with love almost as soon as I 
 was acquainted with myself: that most 
 beautiful woman, Lady Caroline Mur- 
 ray inspired me with a sensibility of 
 that soothing passion, even in my very 
 infancy, and which has since grown 
 to an ardour the strongest and most 
 inviolable that can be conceived/^ 
 
73 
 
 At these words the countenance of 
 the King appeared very much altered, 
 showing, great marks of surprize, blend- 
 ed with those of pleasure ; but being 
 unwilling to interrupt ap Thomas in 
 his relation, he made signs for him to 
 proceed. 
 
 " Pardon my rashness, my King,^' 
 continued he, " it has made me guilty 
 of entertaining thoughts too presump- 
 tuous and aspiring; but impetuous emo- 
 tions and impulses of love have but 
 httle room for reflection ; and as your 
 Majesty must be aware, I was so very 
 young when I first began to feel the 
 force of this irresistible flame ; I hope 
 that consideration will plead my ex* 
 
 ** Your highness knows that the charm- 
 
 ^ing Caroline Howard was educaetd at 
 
 court ; and that from her cradle she gav^ 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
herfontl parents the mostsanguinehopes, 
 by the extraordinary perfections of her 
 person, and the uncommon vivacity of 
 her wit. The bounties with which Ed- 
 ward tlie Fourth was pleased to honour 
 my father, gave my brother and myself 
 an easy access to the palace, and I had 
 often the honour of being admitted to 
 the presence of the young princesses 
 when they were amusing themselves 
 wqth diversions agreeably to their years. 
 From those frequent visits, which my 
 youth authorised, that flame, which 
 can never be extinguished but with my 
 life, first began to kindle in my heart. 
 The young Caroline inspired me with 
 sentiments, the meaning or cause of 
 which I was perfectly ignorant. I was 
 sensible of nothing, but of the pleasure 
 J felt in being near her, the satisfaction 
 and happiness I found in her society; 
 and 1 never knew uneasiness but in her 
 absence. 
 
7^ 
 
 *' I will not, my sovereign, make a 
 recital of the trifling particulars of our 
 infancy, bow charming soever their 
 ideas are still to mij memory, since they 
 must, doubtless, be tiresome and un- 
 interesting to your uiajesty; but shall 
 briefly inform your majesty of those 
 paiticulars which carry with them the 
 firmest conviction of the excess of my 
 love. The little assiduities I used in 
 my officious attendance upon the young 
 Caroline, seemed to have made some 
 impression on- her heart. With what 
 transport did I observe that she w^as 
 not insensible to the care that I took 
 to please her ! With what joy did hope 
 whisper to my heart, that she at last 
 would be mine! Then I was really 
 liappy; Ave passed some years in an 
 uninterrupted state of happiness. It is 
 true, we had not sufficient experience 
 to distinguish the real cause of our fe- 
 licity and the sweetness of our innocent 
 E 2 
 
76 
 
 sympathy; but nevertheless, we tast- 
 ed, without disturbance or constraint, 
 the pleasure of loving one another, and 
 of being ahuost inseparable. But, 
 alas! this agreeable tranquillity was at 
 last interrupted, and I perceived that 
 my soul began to be possessed with 
 sentiments far more lively than those I 
 knew before. 
 
 " It w^as upon the occasion of a 
 grand tournament given by his Majesty 
 Edward, that love, by far diiferent 
 emotions from those I had already felt, 
 made me thoroughly sensible that I was 
 about to sacrifice my happiness for the 
 repose of the first years of my life. I 
 was not at that time sixteen, and I was 
 flattered by many that I might have 
 hope for success in those exercises to 
 which I had vigorously applied my 
 self, as well to render myself the more 
 acceptable to the beautiful Caroline, 
 
77 
 
 as inspired with the same emulation 
 that reigned in the breast of several of 
 our noblemen who had been my school- 
 fellows and companions. His majesty- 
 had issued an order, that all the knights 
 who intended to enter the lists, should 
 maintain and defend the beauty and 
 perfections of their respective mistress- 
 es. Everyone strove with the greatest 
 emulation to out-vie each other in the 
 preparation, they made to appear with 
 the utmost magnificence and splendour 
 upon that solemn occasion. My father, 
 who, rather out of a point of honour, 
 than from any other motive, was like- 
 wise making ready to be present at that 
 festival among the rest, happened to 
 be taken ill; and notwithstanding his 
 indisposition was neither dangerous nor 
 very considerable, it being, however, 
 sufficient to deter him from appearing 
 in the lists, Edward chose him to offi- 
 ciate as one of the judges of the field. 
 £ 3 
 
78 
 
 As for mc, I was so unfortunate as to 
 have not encouragement to claim any 
 share in an affair which would have so 
 agreeably flattered my inclination; 
 when some days before the time that 
 had been fixed on for the tournament, 
 1 went as usual to the palace, and go- 
 ing into the apartment where the young 
 princesses generally amused themselves 
 some hours of the day, 1 was ex- 
 tremely mortified and surprized at not 
 finding Caroline among them, and 
 more so when 1 was told, that, contra- 
 ry to her custom, she had dechned to 
 quit her apartment, and that no per- 
 suasion of their's could prevail on her 
 to join them in their diversions. I ran 
 to her chamber, as I had aUvays enjoy- 
 ed that liberty, and found her extreme- 
 ly uneasy and dejected ; her counte- 
 nance exhibited such tokens of melan- 
 choly and uneasiness as quite confound-- 
 ed and amazed me. 
 
79 
 
 " ' What cause can retain my dear 
 Caroline in this solitude?' said I, 
 ^ What can occasion this gloominess, 
 which I observe upon you ? Conceal it 
 not from ?ne^ I beseech you ; for you 
 must be convinced that 1 would joy- 
 fully sacrifice, if possible, a thousand 
 lives to convince the lovely Caroline 
 kow much I adore her 1' 
 
 "At these words my charming Ca- 
 roline, somewhat recovered herself 
 from that thoughtfulness which op- 
 pressed her, and casting on me a look full 
 of tenderness, said ' 1 am well assured, 
 that I have no friend more sincere than 
 yourself; but I am very sensible, at the 
 same time, that it is not in your power 
 to dissipate my present melancholy, 
 reason indeed may do something; but, 
 continued she with a vehemence that 
 astonished me, ' I am yet too young to 
 follow it^s dictates/ 
 
90 
 
 " * How exquisitely happy, my Ca- 
 roline,' said I, hastily interrupting her, 
 * should I think nnyself, if you would 
 eternally reject the arguments, though 
 specious, which that cruel reason may 
 suggest to the prejudice of my pas- 
 sion !* 
 
 " She was too much occupied with 
 her inward chagrin, to give much regard 
 to the tenderness or anxiety of my ex- 
 pressions. 
 
 " * I should be scrupulous,' resumed 
 Caroline, ' of discovering to everyone 
 the subject of my concern ; but I re- 
 pose so great a confidence in your 
 friendship, that I will confess to you, 
 without being any wise apprehensive 
 of the raillery I am conscious I de- 
 serve, that I am piqued in a very 
 sensible manner, that my immature 
 years prevent any of tke Knights of 
 
61 
 
 our court from undertaking to break a 
 lance in my name, or for my sake/ 
 
 ^' ' My lovely Caroline V said I, * let 
 Boe intreat you not to grieve on that 
 account; I should be unworthy of you 
 if my love did not furnish me with 
 some means of contenting you* I wiH 
 maintain against all mankind, that you 
 ohne deserve the prize, and I will defy 
 any that may have the temerity to dis- 
 pute it to your prejudice: do me th^ 
 honour of accepting me for your Knight ; 
 trust me with that glorioi^ charge, and 
 you¥ eyes shall be the witnesses, that 
 notwithstanding my want of years, th^ 
 ardour of my passion will enable me to 
 mtiintain the glory of so noble a choicej 
 and prove that youth h not incpmp^ 
 lible with valour/ 
 
 *' Notwithstandingshe visibly enough, 
 appeared to be touched with a discourja?^ 
 
89 
 
 TN hich flattered her desires, and drew 
 a smile into her before saddened fea- 
 tures; she obligingly refused my pro- 
 posal, with a judgment, and in terms 
 far above her years. Indeed I ought 
 not to have been discontented, since 
 her only reason for opposing my wishes 
 proceeded from her apprehension for 
 my safety. She appeared conscious 
 that some accident would be the result 
 of my exposing myself to such dan- 
 ger: vanquished at last by my pressing 
 importunities, she reluctantly consent- 
 ed to receive that token of my love, 
 condescending to give me so delicate a 
 proof of the confidence she reposed 
 in me; but at the same time, extorted 
 from me a solemn promise, that what- 
 ever success should befall my enter- 
 prize, the motive which had engaged 
 me to undertake it, should most religi- 
 ously be kept an eternal secret from 
 all the world. 
 
83 
 
 *' Her permission caused in me a trans- 
 port of joy, which seemed to augur to 
 my youthful heart the victory; and 
 that 1 should have the unspeakable 
 happiness of laying the envied prize at 
 her feet. I then began to collect fny 
 thoughts, and from that moment they 
 were employed in making the neces- 
 sary preparation for that magnificent 
 festival; and they were conducted with 
 the greatest privacy. I was soon fur- 
 nished with the meansy the armour, 
 and all the rest of its appurtenances, 
 which my father had had made for 
 himself, being now, in consequence of 
 his illness, useless to him; I resolved 
 to wear it at the tournament. Bein^ 
 of good stature, for my age, my fa- 
 therms armour fitted me with the great- 
 est nicety. I shall not. Sire, enter in- 
 to a detail of the particulars of the fes- 
 tival, as your Majesty is already too 
 well acquainted with the magnificence 
 e6 
 
84 
 
 shown on those occasions: but shall 
 proceed in my narrative. The tourna- 
 ment bescan a considerable time before 
 I ventured to appear, as 1 had determi- 
 ned on attacking the conqueror; when, 
 observing that neither of the champi- 
 ons was able to withstand the vigour 
 and good fortune of the Duke of Al- 
 bany, I had the temerity to advance, 
 brandishing my lance, into the lists, 
 and to bid him defiance. 1 had leisure 
 enough to get engraved upon my shield, 
 the representation of Hebe the God- 
 dess of Youth, encompassed with Cu- 
 pids, together with that of Cytherea 
 seeming in despair for that preference : 
 round the shield 1 caused to be engraven 
 in large characters, 
 
 Venus yields to Hebe. 
 
 " The Duke of Alban3M"eceived m<B 
 with that address and intrepidity so natu- 
 ral to him: bat my good fortune preraiU 
 
85 
 
 ed m an eminent degree, for in the three 
 encounters which we made, according 
 to custom, he could not gain the least 
 advantage over me. As we had both 
 supported these encounters with a de- 
 gree of spirit that astonished the be- 
 holders, it was now deemed necessa-^ 
 ry to draw our swords, which likewise, 
 according to the laws of tournaments, 
 ought to termiffate at three bouts: but 
 the Duke, meeting with a resistance, 
 to which he had not been accustomed^ 
 and which no doubt he did not expect 
 when he saw his young antagonist, he 
 went beyond the ordinary rules, and 
 engaged me with an animosity, which 
 had like to have proved fatal to us 
 both ; for the Duke charged with such 
 force and spirit, that I was obliged to rally 
 all my strength and activity to receive 
 him. I had the good fortune to run 
 him through the thigh ; but he, finding 
 the weakness of my armour in one 
 
86 
 
 place, passed his sword quite through 
 my body. I fell from my horse into 
 the arms of my father; who, M'ith the 
 other judges of the. field, came run- 
 ning to part us. 
 
 *' Your Majesty can readily conceive 
 the agony and surprize of my father, 
 who having put down my beaver, of 
 course, instantly recoguized me. Such 
 was the violence of my father's grief 
 and despair, that it appeared to have 
 made a great impression on the mind 
 of Edward; for his Majesty expressed 
 great sorrow and concern at so fatal an 
 accident. I was carried off the ground, 
 and for a considerable time my life was 
 despaired of; but at length, through the 
 unremitting attention of my father and 
 others, and the strength of the cordi- 
 als that were administered to me, I 
 opened my eyes and soon after reco» 
 vered the use of all my faculties. 
 
87 
 
 Those about me, when they saw that 
 I was completely restored to my senses, 
 expressed the most tender anxiety for 
 me, and wished to know the motives 
 that induced me to so rash and so in- 
 considerate an undertaking:; I was 
 about to reply, when the surgeons io- 
 terfered and begged I would not exert 
 myself, and insisted that no more 
 questions should be put to me till they 
 had probed and dressed my wound a 
 second time. 
 
 *' Will your highness believe me, 
 when I dare have the assurance to af- 
 firm to you, that the terrible condition 
 in which I then was, caused me to be 
 sensible of a certain pleasure and easi- 
 ness of mind, far exceeding the pain 
 I felt, or the danger with which my 
 life was threatened. I had given some 
 proof of my courage, and, at the same 
 time, made my lovely Caroline s^nsi- 
 
88 
 
 ble to what a degree of passion I ador- 
 ed her: my only disquiet, proceeded 
 from a wish to know what effect it had 
 produced in her heart; but it was not 
 long before I had that satisfaction. 
 
 *' After the surgeons had unanimous- 
 ly given their opinion, that my wound, 
 though very dangerous, was not mor-r 
 tal; his Majesty, Edward, most gra- 
 ciously condescended to honour me 
 with a visit, and at the same time 
 anxiously hoped that life would be 
 spared to so young and so courageous 
 a youth. His Majesty was pleased to 
 flatter me, but these were his exact 
 words, I still perfectly well remember 
 that having first blamed my foolish 
 rashness, he commended my generou« 
 boldness ; the sole motive wheyeof ap* 
 peared to him, to be an emulation of 
 acquiring honour: the whole court 
 echoed the sentiments and example* 
 
S9 
 
 ef his Majesty; however, the gallant 
 device with which I had adorned nny 
 shield, occasioned several persons to 
 hesitate, and they debated among 
 thennselves, what possible construction 
 they could put upon it; at length, 
 they applied to me for an explanation 
 to my singular motto; but I, so posi- 
 tively, and with such seeming inge- 
 nuous sincerity, maintained, that the 
 representation of Hebe, was no other 
 than an allusion to my own youth, 
 that I at length persuaded the most 
 inci'edulous. 
 
 ** A few days after, the young 
 princesses, who were brought up in 
 his Majesty's palace, conducted by 
 Lady Serville, honoured me likewise 
 with a visit; and among them, came 
 the beautiful Caroline, 
 
90 
 
 " After the first compliments, my 
 father being busy in entertaining Lady 
 Serville in discourse, the Lady Caro- 
 line approached my bed-side; and 
 while the other young ladies were 
 agreeably amusing themselves with 
 looking upon the device of my shieldy 
 she had an opportunity to tell me^ 
 that she was very sensible of what I 
 bad done for her sake. 
 
 ** ' You have hazarded your life/ 
 added she, ' but be assured, that my - 
 acknowledgments is nothing inferior 
 to the gallantry of the action you un- 
 dertook with a view of pleasing me.* 
 
 *' ' Most adorable Caroline,^ an- 
 swered I, ' this acknowledgment which 
 you make me, is assuredly very sooth- 
 ing, and flattering to my imagination ; 
 and eases my heart of a great part of 
 its burthen, but I did not labour so 
 
91 
 
 much to obtain that, as I did to touch 
 your heart, with still more tender sen- 
 timents/ 
 
 " ' I see plainly enough/ interrupt- 
 ed Caroline, with a smile, ' that it is 
 as difficult for you to moderate your 
 valour in the field, as your ardour in 
 attacking the ladies; but, in a word 
 ap Thomas, think of recovering your 
 health, in which I must own myself to 
 be somewhat interested: you have 
 found the means of making it not in- 
 different to me : oblige me to say no 
 more on this subject ; a longer conver- 
 sation will be equally prejudicial to 
 your recovery, and to what I owe to 
 myself/ 
 
 *' At these words she retired from 
 my bed-side, and joined the princesses, 
 who for some moments longer amused 
 
9^2 
 
 themselves with examining my armour, 
 and then departed. 
 
 " The goodness of my constitution, 
 together with the satisfaction of my 
 mind, soon produced a very favourable 
 change : the fever left me, my strength 
 returned, and in a few days 1 found 
 myself in a condition to leave my bed, 
 and, not long after, my chamb^. 
 
 " My first care was, to return hisr 
 Majesty thanks for the condescending 
 goodness wherewith he bad vouchsa- 
 fed to honour me ; after which I flew 
 to the chamber of the dear dear object 
 of my affections. 
 
 " ' My charming Caroline,* said I, 
 throwing myself at her feet, ' I come 
 t® tender you an dffer of that life 
 which your goodness has preserved: 
 you have rendered it so valuable by 
 
93 
 
 employing it in your service, that it 
 would be tittle less than inhumanity 
 to destroy your own workmanship/ 
 
 " ' It would be happy for me/ replied 
 Caroline, (obliging me to rise, with a 
 sweetness in her looks which quite de- 
 lighted me), ' if indeed I had contribu- 
 ted to your recovery: I, too imprudent- 
 ly, caused you to expose your life, not 
 to avow to you that 1 see you again 
 with pleasure; but I must still make 
 y6u a farther confession ; the danger 
 into which 1 inconsiderately led you, 
 would have soon proved equally fatal 
 to both of us, had you miscarried ; 
 since I could not possibly have enjoy- 
 ed a moment's happiness for my hav- 
 ing precipitated you into so evident a 
 peril. My unwary youth prevented 
 me from reflecting on the consequen- 
 ces of an enterprize, to which I so 
 rashly gave my consent; yet, aftei; all. 
 
94 
 
 you ought not to entertain the worse 
 opinion of me upon that account, 
 since it has furnished you with no 
 {Xood an opportunity of displaying that 
 personal courage, which you possess 
 io a supereminent degree/ 
 
 *' ' Ungenerous woman !' replied I, 
 * it belongs to the world to applaud 
 my courage, if I have been so fortu- 
 nate as to shew any: but grant me the 
 permission to tell you, that you afe in 
 the wrons: to counsel me to have rcoard 
 lor any other happiness of life, than 
 that where love is immediately con- 
 cerned : that deity alone was my guide ; 
 and I should have reason to complain 
 of him, if he should suffer you to take 
 upon yourself what he forcibly compel- 
 led ine to do for your sake/ 
 
 " ' These distinctions are of a very 
 delicate nature,' interrupted Caroline, 
 
9.3 
 
 smiling; ' but indeed I love you too 
 inuch, to leave you in doubt of my 
 thoughts concerning your conduct in 
 this affair. Know then, Reuben, that 
 I am neither ung-enerous nor ungrate- 
 ful ; the action you have performed for 
 my sake, carries with it a character so 
 passionate, that in exposing lo my 
 view the utmost extent of its meanins:, 
 it opens my eyes, and gives me sen- 
 timents of which my want of years, 
 •till this moment, had prevented me 
 from feeling the consequences. 
 
 *' ' I wholly depend upon a parent, 
 who is extremely jealous of his honour 
 and dignity, who undoubtedly designs 
 me for some person of a very high and 
 distinguished rank ; and, though, perhaps, 
 I shall force my inclination in so doing, 
 yet it is my duty to obey him, whatever 
 may be his commands, Wliat hopes, 
 then, can you entertain from a fruitless 
 
96 
 
 passion? Prepare yourself therefore^ 
 my dear ap Thomas, to see irje curb, 
 to see me stifle an inclination, which 
 1 cannot help confessing to you, that 
 even my character, my honour itself, 
 will never be able wholly to eradicate/ 
 
 " Your Majesty may easily conceive 
 the efTect this speech had upon me; it 
 deprived me for some moments of the 
 power of utterance; at length, I reco- 
 vered myself; but, as 1 was preparing 
 to return an answer to a discourse so 
 obliging, and at the same time so cru(S. 
 a death-blow to my passion, since it 
 deprived me of all my earthly hopes of 
 happiness; one of her female attend- 
 ants appeared to inform her that his 
 Majesty wished to see her in his apart- 
 ment. I took my leave of the lovely 
 Caroline, overwhelmed with grief at 
 her discourse, tempered with admira- 
 tion at the sentiments she expressed. 
 
though incompatible with mj happi- 
 ness/ I found them so agreeable to 
 those she ought to entertain, that I 
 sighed as much for not being able, rea* 
 sonably to condemn them, as I did at 
 the thoughts of the obstacle they were 
 likely to be to my future repose/' 
 
 It being late, Henry desired ap Tho- 
 mas to retire to his apartment to rest^ 
 and on the morrow to recommence 
 his narrative. 
 
 TOL. I. 
 
98 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The next day ap Thomas renewed 
 the recital of his narrative, as follows: 
 
 " The Lady Caroline froni that day, 
 began to avoid me; she insensibly de- 
 barred me from those privileges, which, 
 until then, my youth had permitted 
 me to enjoy. I perceived it, without 
 having it in my power to blame her 
 conduct; on the contrary, it caused 
 emotions of admiration ;^ for, from 
 
99 
 
 thence forward I was condemnedl to 
 sigh without complaining. 
 
 " The death of Edward the Fourth 
 took place at that time ; the grief for 
 the decease of so henevolent a sove- 
 reign, took so fast a hold of my spirits, 
 that I for some time forgot my own 
 sorrows, in lamenting the death of so 
 excellent a monarch. 
 
 " Little occurred until the death of 
 Edward the Fifth and the subsequent 
 usurpation of the throne by Richard 
 Duke of Gloucester, with the title of 
 Richard the Third : my father in order 
 to avoid his anger was obliged to ap- 
 pear at court; as well knowing his life 
 would be the price of his disobedience. 
 The Lady Caroline also kept her resi- 
 dence at court, but she avoided me, if 
 
100 
 
 not more, as much as &he did before 
 the death of the good King Edward. 
 
 " Two years elapsed under this tm- 
 supportable constraint, my eyes being 
 all that time the only interpreters of 
 my heart : and I sometimes read in 
 those of that adorable woman, that she 
 was a partaker of the pain imposed 
 upon us by a too rigorous duty : but, 
 alas ! how weak and imperfect a con- 
 solation was that to a heart inflamed 
 like mine ! 
 
 •'* At the same time, to complete my 
 clespair, my father, without consulting 
 my incHnation, took a resolution to 
 marry me to Helen Beauchamp, the 
 daughter of Sir Roger Beauchamp, 
 who might with justice have passed 
 for the most beautiful lady of the whole 
 
101 
 
 court, had not the enchanting Caro- 
 line been its principal ornament. 
 
 " Richard was consulted upon the 
 affair: he gave his consent: thinking 
 by that means to strengthen his party, 
 not in the least suspecting, that my 
 father did it merely to keep away his 
 angei. It was not till that moment, 
 that I had the smallest idea of the yoke 
 which was intended for me ; and when 
 my father mentioned it to me as a 
 thing entirely resolved upon, and 
 which was to be concluded in a very 
 few days, judge, Sire, how much must 
 be his surprise to find me give an ab- 
 solute and determined refusal to accept 
 of the advantages he offered me, to- 
 gether w^ith so agreeable a person as 
 Helen. 
 
 . * Fl It 
 
105 
 
 *' It availed him little lo lay before 
 me the honour of such an alliance: 
 the advantages our family would re- 
 ceive from such an union. He like- 
 wise painted in glowing colours the 
 just resentment an illustrious family 
 like that of Helen's would entertain at 
 my refusal, 1 remained firmly and ir- 
 revocably fixed in my first resolution, 
 determined not to sacrifice my happi- 
 ness, notwithstanding the parental au- 
 thority my father endeavoured to exert, 
 in order to bring me to a compliance. 
 
 " When my father found that his 
 reasoning and arguments were of no 
 avail, that I still obstinately refused, 
 he went so far as to prevail with his 
 majesty to let me know the part he 
 condescended to take in my concerns. 
 His majesty did it with candour and 
 
103 
 
 lenity. Caroline herself had likewise 
 the cruelty to press me to it; but rrie- 
 thought, upon that occasion, I observ- 
 ed that her K^ords were not in unison 
 with the sentiments of her heart, 
 
 " In answer to those pressing soli* 
 citations, I so vigorously alledged my 
 want of years, and the little inclination 
 1 had for a married life, that I had not 
 only my father's indignation to encoun- 
 ter, but likewise the sharp resentment 
 of the family of the house of Beau- 
 champ. I made slight of all, valuing 
 myself upon having given to Caroline 
 a sincere and undoubted proof of my 
 attachment. 
 
 " I soon perceived the happy effect 
 
 my resistance had upon the heart of 
 
 that divine w^oman. I met her one 
 
 F 4 day 
 
104 
 
 day coming from the apartment of his 
 majesty. 
 
 " * Reuben,* said she, semewha! 
 hastily, as she passed by me, * I am 
 truly sensible of the whole merit of 
 what you do on my account ; and feel 
 highly flattered by the late sacrifice you 
 have made ; but what advantage can 
 you possibly reap from refusing the 
 hand and fortune of the accompliahed 
 Helen Beauchamp? None — all that 
 you can expect to reap, is a fruitless 
 pity. You refuse a tempting fortune, 
 for a person who can never possibly 
 be a sharer with you of any thing but 
 your misfortunes/ 
 
 " Having said this, she left me so 
 precipitately, that I could return no 
 answer. 
 
105 
 
 " I remained quite transported at 
 those obliging expressions, and I bles- 
 sed, a thousand times, the firmness of 
 resolution which had occasioned them. 
 But a crowd of melancholy reflections 
 at the same instant obtruding them- 
 selves on my mind, soon made me 
 sensible, that she, as tenderly sensible 
 of my sufferings as she expressed her- 
 self to be, could not, like me, oppose 
 absolute commands, and that it could 
 not be long before some-iiappy nval 
 would deprive me of those slender re- 
 mains c^f hope, which alone kept me 
 alive. 
 
 " That cruel moment came^ and I 
 felt all the tortures which I had but too 
 certainly anticipated. Caroline's beau« 
 ty, which was fast approaching that 
 point of perfection it has since at- 
 F 6 tained, 
 
106 
 
 tallied, brought me the most foririidu- 
 ble rivals. 
 
 " Lord Murray, encouraged by the 
 high rank which he held at court, de- 
 .clared himself her admirer, and hy his 
 assiduities to please Caroline, and the 
 magnificent fetes he gave in honour of 
 her, convinced the world of his i>as- 
 sion apd pretensions. 
 
 " I was almost frantic at this fatal 
 news ; it reduced me to despair, in 
 spite of the distant ghmmering of 
 hope I had clung to. The bare idea 
 of seeing her whom I adored in the 
 arms of another, quite surmounted 
 my constancy, and overthrew the 
 little fortitude 1 possessed;- But, 
 bow much was my torture increas- 
 ed, when I heard that it was rumour- 
 ed abroad, that Lord Murray had 
 
107 
 
 obtained permission to address her for 
 whom 1 sighed ! 
 
 " It was then that my fury grew 
 outrageous. This discovery hurt me 
 more than what I had ah'eady heard ; 
 my rage knew no bounds ; ^ thousand 
 horrors oppressed my mind, and I 
 formed several violent resolutions a- 
 gainst my rival's life ! But reason, and 
 love itself, soon convinced me that 
 by entertaming such desperate and vain 
 thoughts, I should not only injure the 
 reputation of the object of my adora- 
 tion, but likewise should be nothing 
 happier, since it was more than pro- 
 bable that another would reap the fruits 
 of my despair. 
 
 " Caroline, who perceived my dis- 
 tress of miwd, and the perplexity to 
 f6 
 
H>8 
 
 which I was reduced, seem'd to pity 
 me, and by favorable looks, and some 
 obliging expressions, to endeavour to 
 restore a calm in my tempestuous 
 breast. 
 
 " The satisfaction of finding the god- 
 dess of my heart interest herself in 
 my behalf, somewhat abated the im- 
 petuosity of my first agitation, and the 
 arrival of several noblemen, my friends, 
 helped still more to moderate my an- 
 guish : among them came Lords Mont- 
 joy and Selwyn. 
 
 " The former, though otherwise not 
 disagreeable in his person, had a fero- 
 city and savageness in his countenance ; 
 the latter, had something in his phy- 
 siognomy which denoted the perfidy 
 and deceit of his heart. 
 
109 
 
 " Both of these noblemen fell in love 
 wtih Caroline, and gave splendid 
 demonstrations of their increasing pas- 
 sion . 
 
 " This powerful diversion gave naea> 
 satisfaction which a lover seldom enjoys 
 upon the discovery of his rivals. I 
 made no doubt but they would do 
 their utmost to balance Lord Murray in 
 .his pretensions. 
 
 "Indeed they neglected no expedi- 
 ent, no assiduity, in order to obtain the 
 preference. Feasts, balls, and tourna- 
 ments, became daily entertainments, 
 and these three amorous and magnifi- 
 cent rivals, strove with all imaginable 
 emulation which of them should 
 carry off the contested prize. In short 
 nothing was to be seen but gf^llantry : 
 I, alone, plunged into an abyss of cha- 
 
no 
 
 grin, solitarily sighed away my unhappy 
 hours, with horror at the idea of what 
 misery was to attend the remainder of 
 my days ; for 1 made no doubt, but 
 that one of my three rivals would be 
 chosen. 
 
 " I was so grievously tormented with 
 these new ideas, that, unable to resist 
 the racking uneasiness they gave me, I 
 resolved to write to her ; which 1 did 
 as folio vvs. 
 
 " * Pity my sufferings, adorable Caro- 
 line ! do not I entreat you let me plead 
 in vain. The love that 1 once cherish- 
 ed in my heart, is now about to con- 
 duct me to my grave. Despise me not 
 I beseech you, but permit me to throw 
 myself at your feet, and receive from 
 your hands a token that you do not' 
 hate me/ 
 
in 
 
 *' I put tills billet in my pocket, with 
 a design to deliver it to her ; and that 
 same evening an opportunity offered. 
 
 " A magnificent ball was appointed 
 to be held in the palace, and the liberty 
 every one had to go masked, gave me 
 likewise the liberty of approaching my 
 dear Caroline. 1 had the good fortune 
 to make myself known to her, and to 
 prevail with her to receive my billet. 
 She took it with such dexterity, as 
 precluded the possibility of any person 
 perceiving it ; and under pretence of 
 reading some verses which Lord Mont- 
 joy had procured to be made for her, I 
 observed that she read what my love 
 dictated ; after which by looks full of 
 languishing tenderness, she let me see 
 that she was not unmoved at my suffer- 
 
112 
 
 " However these looks may have 
 flattered my vanity, they did not con- 
 vince me, that I should at last be 
 happy in the possession of my Caro- 
 Mne. I knew not what to think, and 
 in a state of the greatest anxiety, I 
 retired to my chamber, pondering 
 what construction I might put on this 
 fevourable reception of my billet. 
 
 ** I waited for the next day with 
 the greatest impatience ; and that day, 
 which I had flattened myself would 
 have afforded me some consolation, 
 riearly proved fatal to my Ufe. 
 
 *' I expected, that at Lord Murray^$ 
 entertainment, who, in his turn, had 
 prepared one with great magnificence 
 for the Lady Caroline, 1 should by the 
 same means, receive from her an an- 
 swer, and with this view I repaired 
 
113 
 
 to the palace masked, and as closely 
 disguised as possible, in order to con- 
 coal myself from the knowledge of all 
 but her to whom I aeiermined to 
 '.nake myself known. 
 
 ** But she was so constaatly oc- 
 cupied in conversation with those 
 around her, that I had not an op- 
 portunity of putting tny design into 
 practice. When 1 was on the point 
 of despairing of being able to get 
 near her amidst that tumultuous as- 
 sembly, I resolved to retire to an 
 anti-room which adjoined th^ apart- 
 ment, and through which she must 
 pass when she retired from the ball- 
 room, hoping that, through those 
 means, I might have an opportunity 
 of conversing with her. 
 
114 
 
 ** I had been there some moments 
 occupied with unpleasing reflections 
 on my present situation, which oblig- 
 ed me to seek darkness and soli- 
 tude, while my rivals enjoyed the 
 liberty of making public profession of 
 sentiments which could not possibly 
 stand competition with the ardour 
 and tenderness of mine, when two 
 persons in masks, not perceiving me, 
 entered the room, in conversation 
 which they continued in low tones 
 very near me, not knowing 1 was 
 present. 
 
 " As I easily knew them to be 
 Lords Montjoy, and Selwyn, and as it 
 is natural for every jealous lover to 
 have a desire to penetrate into the 
 secrets of his rivals, I was charmed 
 at not being discovered. Lord Mont- 
 
\\3 
 
 joy at last spoke in a louder tone, 
 and proceeded with some impetuo- 
 sity. 
 
 ** ' Our destinies, my Lord/ said 
 Montjoy, ' are precisely the same, 
 and you have been informed by her 
 father, 1 make no doubt, of the pre- 
 ference he gives to Lord Murray : I 
 know not what effect his unworthy 
 refusal has produced in your soul: 
 for my part, I find myself transported 
 with the most violent rage, and 
 would immediately have given bloody 
 proofs of my resentment, had I not 
 expected more favourable sentiments 
 from a person for whom we equally 
 languish : but 1 have just discovered 
 a secret ; and find that her ingrati- 
 tude to us, surpasses her father's in- 
 justice: I heard that weak woman 
 
116 
 
 give Lord Murray an assignation, 
 ordering him to be to-morrow night? 
 at eight, in tlie avenue adjoining the 
 grand entrance of tiie palace.* 
 
 ** * Ah ? my Lord/ interrupt<^d 
 Selwyn, ' what is it you tcfl me ! by 
 this cruel discourse you but too much 
 confirm the just suspicion raised in 
 my breast upon account of a billet, 
 which', some moments since, I took 
 up as it fell from the bosom of Ca- 
 rohne, while she was dancing with 
 Lord Murray/ 
 
 " Lord Montjoy took it, and draw- 
 ing towards a small lamp, the only 
 light in the room, he read sufficiently 
 loud for me to hear the following, 
 which is still fresh ia my memory. 
 
117 
 
 " * I do pity you, I am not dis- 
 pleased with you, calm your anguish : 
 and to satisfy you to the utmost of 
 my power, rest assured I commiserate 
 your sufferings, and that for your sake, 
 I am about to take a step which will 
 convince you of my partiality for 
 you. 
 
 Caroline/ 
 
 " It is impossible for me to ex- 
 press to your Majesty what I felt at 
 the reading of this note : Monijoy and 
 Sclwyn seemed little less uneasy. 
 
 " They were preparing to go on 
 with their discourse, which would, 
 doubtless, have informed me of their 
 pernicious designs, but at that mo- 
 ment, the eyes of L.ord Montjoy en- 
 
118 
 
 countered mine, and put an end to 
 their conversation. 
 
 " He immediately advanced fiercely 
 towards me, and as it was my wish 
 not to be discovered, I retreated, and 
 got into the hall among the compa- 
 ny, where he soon lost sight of 
 me, 
 
 ** I retired to my home, plunged 
 in a deeper despair than, in my 
 whole life, I had ever felt before, 
 fully persuaded that I had discovered 
 a piece of the blackest treachery in 
 the world. 
 
 " Without the least hesitation 
 ^ resolved to be at the place assigned 
 for the meeting of the two lovers, 
 and I passed the hours which preceded 
 
119 
 
 that inauspicious moment, in the ut- 
 most impatience. 
 
 " At length the tme arrived when 
 I was to fly to the fatal spot, where 
 I was to be a witness of my wretch- 
 edness ; when there, I was obliged to 
 seek concealment in an obscure part 
 of the avenue. 
 
 *' You may easily conceive. Sire, the 
 dreadful agitations under which I 
 laboured while waiting for the com- 
 ing of, as I supposed, that faithless 
 woman. 
 
 " Many times did suicide cross my 
 mind, but was unheeded : 1 was tired 
 of life, but had not sufficient courage 
 to end it voluntarily. 
 
120 
 
 ^ ** The only thing capable of keep* 
 ing me alive, was, the firm resolu- 
 tion I had taken to pierce the heart 
 of my triumphant rival, and with the 
 same dagger with which I should 
 have sacrificed him to my just fury, 
 to have put an end at once to my life 
 and misfortunes. 
 
 " My thoughts were deeply plunged 
 in these melancholy ideas, when, 
 casting my eyes towards the Palace, 
 I beheld the cruel Caroline, with a 
 precipitate step, advancing towards 
 the place. 
 
 " This seeming impatience of hers 
 to be first at the place of rendezvous, 
 redoubled my rage, and 1 am still 
 at a loss to comprehend how I had 
 so much command ovat myself a» 
 
121 
 
 to resist the inclination I felt, to quit 
 my place of concealment, and reproach 
 her for her ingratitude. 
 
 *' But the desire or curiosity which I 
 had to hear what she could say to Lord 
 Murray, detained me. 
 
 '• Caroline entered the avenue and 
 not finding the person she expected, 
 she sat down on a seat, and fell into a 
 profound reverie. I observed all her 
 motions, as much as what the light of 
 the moon gave, would permit, and my 
 jealousy persuaded me, that the tardi- 
 ness of rnv rival, was the cause of the 
 uneasiness under which she seemed to 
 labour ; in a short time my attention 
 was arrested by the appearance of Lord 
 Murray whom I saw come in and cart 
 himself at her feet* She made him rise, 
 
 VOL I. G 
 
129 
 
 with an indulgence that carried me to 
 the highest fury, and was Httle short of 
 depriving me of my reason ; and, to 
 compleat my despair, I could hear little 
 or nothing of their discourse, by reason 
 of the distance I was from them. 
 
 " As it was utterly impossible to hear 
 I employed my eyes: and, from the 
 least gestures, I imagined consequen- 
 ces, which I believed certair^ties ; and 
 the prepossession of my soul was such, 
 that I fancied Lord Murray was return- 
 ing to Caroline a thousand grateful ac- 
 knowledgements for her goodness to 
 him. But at last my patience absolute- 
 ly abandoned me, when I beheld that 
 happy lover rashly fixing his presump- 
 tuous lips upon one of the fair hands of 
 that faithless woman. 
 
123 
 
 " When I saw that, I no longer 
 doubted of my ruin ; and as I was pre- 
 paring to execute my fatal design, I 
 saw two men enter the avenue, sword 
 in hand, whom I instantly knew to be 
 the Lords Montjoy and Selwyn. 
 
 " They suddenly fell upon Lord 
 Murray, and, before he had time to 
 put himself on the defensive, they 
 dangerously wounded him. 
 
 " However, his courage soon over- 
 came the sudden surprise into which 
 he had been thrown by this assault, 
 and made a gallant resistance to the 
 attack of his base assassins. 
 
 *' Notwithstanding I had time 
 enough to consider that I had it in my 
 power to rid myself of these three rivals, 
 g2 
 
1S4. 
 
 without appearing in the affair, I made 
 not a monnent's hesitation to follow the 
 dictates of horwur and generosity, and 
 Successfully placed myself by the side 
 of Lord Murra}^ and had the happinefjis 
 to assist him so effectually, that those 
 unworthy Lords betook themselves to 
 a precipitate flight. 
 
 ^' Lord Murray, having no more ene-r 
 mies to encounter, turned towards me, 
 and to testify his acknowledgement for 
 the seasonable assistance I had given 
 him, said, 
 
 " ' I know not in what manner to 
 thank you for the aid you have just lent 
 me: in the mean while, my sensibi- 
 lity- ' 
 
 " He was unable to continue his dis- 
 course, his weariness, and the quantity 
 
126 
 
 of blood which he had lost, having so 
 weakened him, that he fell senseless at 
 the feet of Caroline, who on her part 
 was so filled with dread and consterna- 
 tion at this scene, that she had pot the 
 power to move from the spot where she 
 seemed transfixed like a statue. I 
 approached hert remblingly. 
 
 " ' My dear Caroline,' said I, Met 
 me entreat you to retire from this 
 dreadful scene ; I will take care of this 
 unfortunate Noblemauc' 
 
 "As she was about to follow my 
 entreaty, we saw advancing towards us 
 a number of people whom the clashing 
 of swords had brought thither. 
 
 " ' Fly Madam,' said I, ' it is not 
 proper that you should be found here, 
 g3 
 
\9G 
 
 and save yourself from the shame atten- 
 dant on your discovery/ 
 
 " The astonished Caroline was about 
 to retire, but Richard, followed by a 
 number of domestics, arrived ere she 
 could quit the spot ; his horror and sur- 
 prize was bv?yond expression, as he has 
 since declared to find Lord Murray 
 weltering in his blood : to see that 
 lovely woman, half dead, in a place, 
 and at an hour, so extraordinary ; and 
 to meet me, at the same time, with my 
 sword drawn, standing by them ! All 
 t»ii;«, at first seemed to deprive his 
 Majesty of the power of speech ; but 
 anger immediately succeeding his sur- 
 prise, he made no scruple of believing,, 
 that Lord Murray and myself had been 
 engaged in a quarrel against each other, 
 and that I had reduced him to the con- 
 
 
127 
 
 dition in which he found hifh, and his 
 Majesty, perhaps, suspected the virtu- 
 ous CaroHne of holding a criminal cor- 
 yespondence with me, 
 
 "He fixed his eyes upon her with a 
 k)ok expressive of the rage that burned 
 within him ; and commanded her to 
 retire with a severity which pierced me 
 to the very bottom of my heart, though 
 at the same time, I thought her faithless. 
 
 •* I cast myself at his feet, in order 
 to give him an exact account of all that 
 had happened ; but the unhappy appea- 
 rances which opposed our justification, 
 prevented his Majesty from giving ear 
 to my words. 
 
 " By his order, 1 was dragged to 
 prison, while Lord Murray was carried 
 g4 
 
128 
 
 to the palace. I perceived with grief, 
 that my safety wholly depended upon 
 his recovery : it being he alone who 
 could attest my innocence. 
 
 " Shall I confess what were my 
 thoughts under these wretched circum- 
 stances ? The satisfaction of being 
 justified for a crime laid to my charge 
 with such convincing appearances of 
 truth, seemed to me nothing in com- 
 petition with the mortal chagrin of ow- 
 ing that justification to my rival. 
 
 *^ Added to this I felt the bitterness 
 of the unfortunate adventure : and that 
 Caroline, in exculpating herself, in re- 
 gard to the intelligence she might be 
 suspected to hold with me, must be 
 obliged to confess what she had done 
 for LoiKi Murray. 
 
129 
 
 " 'AlasI* cried 1/ the King, who, 
 undoubtedly has approved of that Lords 
 will be highly gratified by the compli- 
 ance of Caroline and her Father : they 
 will be united, and I shall be declared 
 innocent, only to be witness of an union 
 so fatal to my future happiness. 
 
 " I passed the night in these rack- 
 ing reflections ; but, alas ! all that I 
 had foreseen was confirmed in the 
 morning. My brother, whose regard 
 for me was tender and affectionate, was 
 the first who, by his Majesty's order, 
 came to release me from my confine- 
 ment. 
 
 " From him I understood, that some 
 
 hours after Lord Murray had been put 
 
 to bed, he, having recovered his speech, 
 
 had told Richard all that had passed 
 
 g5 
 
130 
 
 the prccoding night, and that he had 
 not only justilied Caroline and me, buV 
 likewise liad given him an account of 
 the assistance I gave him, in terms that 
 qjito disconcerted me. 
 
 " I was astonished and confounded at 
 this proof of my rivals honor and vera- 
 city, and was heartily sorry that 1 had 
 thought so meanly of him. My brother 
 likewise told me, that the treacherous 
 Lords had precipitately left the court, 
 and that Lord Selwyn, in the confusion 
 of his flight, had left, upon the table 
 in his closet, the billet which he had 
 picked up at Lord Murray^s ball, and 
 which had now fallen into the hands of 
 one of the King's household, named 
 Johnson. He immediately supected it 
 to be written by Caroline, as he knew 
 her hand by having seen some verses o^ 
 
131 
 
 lier writing, and had sav^d them, ima- 
 gining they had been the cause of thts 
 late disorders, 
 
 "But, Sire, admire my good fortune 
 upon this occasion : my brother very 
 happily for me, was acquainted with 
 Johnson, who permitted him to retura 
 it to Caroline : I desired my brother to 
 let me see it, and, upon perusal, I soon 
 found it to be the same that had given 
 me so much uneasiness. 
 
 " He made no difficulty to suffer me 
 to charge myself with the delivery of 
 the billet to the charming owner, after 
 which he conducted me, according to 
 his Majesty^s order, to Lord Murray's 
 apartcoent, where he then was. 
 
 eS 
 
132 
 
 ** That Lord, in the most obliging 
 terms, thanked me for the service \ had 
 rendered him, and seemed full of regret 
 for the indifferent recompense! had re- 
 ceived for it. 
 
 *' I begg'd his Lordship would not 
 think of the rough treatment I had ex- 
 perienced, nor over-rate the services I 
 had rendered him, that 1 only stood 
 forward in the cause of humanity, in 
 defending his Lordship, in an unequal 
 contest, and that I was happy my ex- 
 ertions had been crowned with success, 
 but that 1 deserved no thanks ; since 
 had his Lordship been the meanest sub- 
 ject in his Majesty^s dominions, 1 should 
 have given him my assistance with the 
 same alacrity, that I had done on the 
 present occasion. 
 
133 
 
 " His Lordship grasped my hand in 
 silence, while the big tear stood in his 
 eye. I begged that he would not exert 
 himself to talk much, as that would 
 greatly retard his cure. 
 
 *' Indeed the nobleness and genero- 
 sity of Lord Murray^s character had won 
 me to his interest ; and I could only 
 lament that 1 was his rival. 
 
 " His Majesty was most graciously 
 pleased to express his concern for the 
 injustice which had been done me, and 
 to bestow far greater praise on my ac- 
 tion than it deserved. 
 
 " I withdrew fully satisfied with the 
 acknowledgements of Lord Murray. 
 Every onfe was almost convinced that 
 my being present at this dreadful scene 
 
154 
 
 was accidentaL They thought it very 
 probable, that walking near the spot I 
 was merely attracted thither by hearing 
 the clashing of swords. 
 
 " It was, however, whispered about 
 to the disadvantage of Caroline ; and 
 in order to put a stop to those rumours 
 her :"diheE deterT.inea to unite her in 
 the indissoluble l:)0!^ds of wedlock to 
 Lord Murray, as soon as he should have 
 recovered his health, which was spee- 
 dily hop'^d for, loss of blood being the 
 greatest obstacle to his Lordship^s re- 
 covery. 
 
 " The effect this melancholy new» 
 had upon me, can more easily be felt 
 than described, for a time neither rea- 
 son nor religion could silence my grief; 
 but as I had expected it, and had fore* 
 
135 
 
 s^n it as an unavoidable stroke, I sum- 
 moned all my constancy : I feigned an 
 indisposition for several days, that I 
 might prepare and fortify my reason 
 against such an inevitable misfortune. 
 And though my happiness and peace 
 of mind was lost for ever, I could not 
 help admiring the many good qualities 
 of my successful rival ; I therefore strove 
 to hide an aching heart under the pica 
 of indisposition ; but alas ! how fruitless 
 were my precautions. 
 
 " It availed me little to represent to 
 my imagination, that my extreme sor- 
 row was neither just nor reasonable ; it 
 was wholly out of my power to over- 
 come it ; and the idea of Caroline's 
 infidelity, which I incessantly opposed 
 to the violence of my passion, was t©o 
 weak to triumph over it. 
 
136 
 
 *' In this state I continued for some 
 time, striving to hide my real situation 
 from those friends who were solicitous 
 for my welfare ; and I at length deter- 
 mined (as Caroline was lost to me for 
 ever) to master that violent grief, which 
 now preyed upon my mind, and struck 
 at the very root of my existence^ 
 
137 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 " Being unwilling to manifest to the 
 court any signs of my real situation, I 
 resolved to quit England, and to end 
 my days in some part of the world, far, 
 far from my native country ; for since I 
 had lost her on whom my hopes of 
 happiness hung. I was indifferent as 
 to my future fate, for every joy seemed 
 banish'd for ever with the loss of 
 Caroline. 
 
13S 
 
 " Having formed this resolution, I 
 began to prepare to put it into execution • 
 I privately got my affairs in order, and 
 furnished myself with money for a long 
 journey. 
 
 *' When the morning of the day 
 whieh preceded that of my departure, 
 came, I thought it requisite, the better 
 to conceal my design, to make my 
 appearance at the palace as usual : but 
 that was no other than a vain pretence 
 wherewith 1 endeavoured to satisfy my 
 reason ; for in reality, 1 was dragged 
 thither by the secret pleasure of once 
 more beholding my still dear, though 
 ungrateful Caroline. 
 
 " Accordingly I went to court, an4 
 then, from every one, I met the con- 
 firmation of that fatal union,^ which was 
 
139 
 
 to prove my ruin. After some stay, I 
 was about to return, without even the 
 poor consolation of having a sight of 
 Caroline ; when passing by her apart- 
 ment, I saw her coming out. She was 
 alone ; and the despair which was visi- 
 ble in my eyes, arresting those of the 
 lovely tyrant, she stopped me* 
 
 " ' Reuben,^ said she, in a low voice, 
 * you fly from me : a false appearance 
 deceives you, while I am the most 
 wretched female upon earth 1' 
 
 " ' Ungrateful Caroline,^ replied J, 
 fixing my eyes on hers, ' I am but too 
 wretched : indeed I have great cause ; 
 I have been an eye-witness of your un- 
 happiness ; but I shall soon deliver you 
 for ever from an object whose presence 
 would incessantly reproach your perfidy/ 
 
140 
 
 *' It was with the utmost difficulty I 
 littered these words, as my violent emo- 
 tion almost deprived me of the power 
 of speech, and with some satisfaction I 
 beheld Caroline redden in a violent de- 
 gree, and appeared greatly agitated. I 
 was astonished, and for a moment 
 thought I had upbraided her unjustly, 
 but then the proofs of her guilt returned 
 to my mind with such force, that I was 
 convinced, that though my language to 
 her was harsh and perhaps insulting, 
 still her conduct sufficiently justified 
 me in the expressions I had made 
 use of. 
 
 " As she appeared too much confused 
 to address me, a pause of some length 
 ensued, during which I took a retro- 
 spect of my conduct towards her, and 
 of the speech I had just made, but 
 
141 
 
 could discover nothing but what my 
 reason and niy conscience approved of. 
 
 " I waited impatiently for her reply, 
 which at length she couched in the 
 following terms. 
 
 " 'My conduct must certainly have 
 appeared mysterious to you, but what- 
 ever degree of mystery may be attached 
 to me, suffice it to say that I have not 
 deserved those cruel expressions, you 
 havejnst used.^ 
 
 " She paused for a moment to reco- 
 ver herself, she appeared greatly agita- 
 ted ; and at length proceeded. 
 
 " * Ap Thomas,^ said she in tears, ' had 
 taken a resolution to avoid any private 
 conversation with you, as one of the 
 
142 
 
 greatest clangers that could attend me; 
 but it is my wish to correct a mistake 
 which appears to give you great unea- 
 siness. 
 
 "lean easily convince you of my in- 
 nocence : would to heaven I could as 
 easily conceal from you my weakness ! 
 come, therefore, this evening to my 
 apartment; I will take care that we 
 shall not be interrupted : but remember 
 that it will be the last meeting that my 
 duty can ever permit me to grant to 
 you 1' 
 
 " At these words she left me ; and I 
 beheld in her eyes so much tenderness 
 and sincerity, that my fears were all 
 dissipated instantly. I felt rekindling 
 in my breast some sparks of those plea- 
 sures which had been so long banished 
 
143 
 
 from thence : and I returned to my 
 father's house so different from what I 
 had been when I last left it, that I 
 scarce knew myself, 
 
 *' It is needless for me to tell your 
 majesty with what impatience I waited 
 for the hour in which I was to o-o to 
 the appointed place : those who have 
 ever felt the anxieties of lo\^, are too 
 well acquainted with the different effects 
 that irresistible passions produce. 
 
 " Never day appeared to me so tedi- 
 ous : but at last the wished for night 
 arrived, and I flew to the place of my 
 assignation. Caroline, who, to disen- 
 gage herself from a crowd of importu- 
 nate visitors, had feigned a sudden in- 
 disposition, and retired to her own 
 apartipent. And the better to avoid 
 
144 
 
 suspicion, had lain down upon a couch, 
 and it was in that situation she received 
 me, 
 
 '' Her head attire was an elegant dis- 
 habille : and notwithstanding the rest 
 of her apparel was answerable to that 
 simplicity, she never appeared in my 
 eyes more beautiful than she did at that 
 moment. Several of her female atten- 
 dants were amusing themselves in her 
 apartment upon a piece of embroidery. 
 
 " I must confess I felt rather confu- 
 sed at appearing before Caroline, be- 
 cause I appeared in the character of an 
 accuser, and had come there to hear 
 her defence. It was evident I thought 
 that she could clearly prove her inno- 
 cence, or she would never have invited 
 me to a private conference. And when 
 
145 
 
 she had established that, how com- 
 pletely I should be at her mercy, for 
 having once doubted her constant affec- 
 tion. 
 
 " She might perhaps thought I be com- 
 pelled to Lord Murray ; and probably 
 a sacrifice at the shrine of avarice and 
 ambition, in chusing rather to sacrifice 
 her own happiness than her parents, 
 welfare. 
 
 " These thoughts passed rapidly in my 
 mind as I cast my eyes upon the lovely 
 maid. She perceived my confusion, 
 and relieved me by the following good 
 natured address : 
 
 " ' Come hither, ap Thomas ;' said 
 she, * I want to consult you about some- 
 thing that concerns me.' 
 
 vol. I. H 
 
\^6 
 
 "At these words she Commanded 
 me to sit down by her, the distance 
 from her attendants being such as to 
 preclude the possibiHty of their over- 
 hearing us. 
 
 " * It is in vain/ said she, * for us 
 to flatter our imaginations, by holding 
 out hopes of happiness v»'hich never can 
 be realized. For, added she in a tre- 
 mijlous voice, ' I can no longer avoid 
 giving my hand to Lord Murray ; and 
 notwithstanding the sentiments 1 have 
 for you, we must part for ever : my 
 duty compels me to act contrary to my 
 inclinations : but alas ! such is the 
 destiny of persons of rank : their 
 hearts are never consulted ; they are 
 ordained for victims, and as such are 
 compelled to accept whatea^er yoke is 
 imposed upon them ! My father insists 
 
U7 
 
 on my accepting of Lord Murray, and 
 I must, of necessity, bid an eternnl 
 adieu both to your love and your com- 
 pany. Prepare yourself therefore to 
 stand the shock with constancy, and 
 think upon what my honour and clra- 
 racter exacts from me/ 
 
 '" I am fully conscious of the strength 
 of your passion, but for my sake endea- 
 vour to conquer it. J know your suspi- 
 cions, and it is in order to satisfy both 
 the one and the other, that 1 have 
 run the hazard of suffering you to come 
 hither, notwithstanding I am betro- 
 thed to Lord Murray. 
 
 " ' O God '/ I exclaimed, no longer 
 able to contain myself,' and can you 
 Caroline preach patience and resigna- 
 tion to one who has lost eyery hope of 
 
us 
 
 happiness in the world ? Can you 
 imagine mine a boyish, or a childish pas- 
 sion, that an absence from you would 
 wean your image from my heart ? I 
 should indeed be unworthy of you, be 
 unworthy of such a treasure, was my 
 affection fixed upon so slight a foun- 
 dation ! No my Caroline, however 
 presumptuous my love may be, still it 
 is ardent and sincere, and far, far 
 above my endeavours to conquer it/ 
 
 " Caroline w^as softened at the ani- 
 mated manner, with which I expressed 
 myself. Her fine eyes were suifused 
 with tears, and now the pearly drops 
 chased each other down her pale 
 cheek. 
 
 " She seveial times attempted to 
 speak, but the violence of her grief 
 rendered her unequal to the task. 
 
U9 
 
 '• She at length assumed a degree of 
 composure, and then proceeded. 
 
 " 'You onQ;ht to be satisfied with what 
 1 have ah'eady said, but to clear my 
 own character from any wrong imputa- 
 tion respecting the late accident, I am 
 compelled to inform you the reason of 
 the meeting. On the day of the ball, 
 at which so many extraordinary inci- 
 dents succeeded each other, Lords 
 Montjoy and Selwyn separately caused 
 me to be demanded in marriage of my 
 father. 
 
 *' * Those propositions could do no less 
 than displease him, as well upon 
 account of the ill qualities of those 
 Lords, as the promise he had made to 
 Lord Murray. He complimented them 
 both ; and in order to get rid of their 
 importunities, told them, that it was 
 H 3 
 
150 
 
 not in his power to recall his consent 
 which he liad given to Lord Murray, 
 which aUiance would shortly be con- 
 summated. Those two unworthy suitors 
 e;rrw outracreous at that refusal, which, 
 in all appearance, was the excuse to the 
 base action they had perpetrated. 
 
 " ' M}' Father, soon after, came into 
 my apartment, where, having given me 
 an account of what had passed between 
 them, he told me, that in order, for 
 the future, to avoid refusals of that na- 
 ture, it was his pleasure, thati should 
 prepare myself, in two days to be uni- 
 ted to Lord Murray, adding, that he 
 grew impatient at the unnecessary 
 delay, 
 
 " ^ At these words he withdrew, 
 leaving me absorbed in grief* The 
 
151 
 
 time he gave me/ continued Caroline, 
 * appeared so short, that I was utterly 
 at a loss how to act. 
 
 ** ' The billet you wrote me pierced 
 me to the soul : I read, in the most 
 lively colours, the torments under which 
 you languished, without having it in 
 my power to afford you the smallest 
 assistance or relief. I determined, 
 therefore, at last, to entreat Lord 
 Murray to defer the celebration of the 
 nuptials for some time. 
 
 " * I doubted not but that he would 
 comply with my entreaty, and in the 
 meanwhile to calm the agitations of 
 your mind, 1 had the imprudence to 
 take with me an answer to your note, 
 which you expected, and which 1 had 
 the misfortgne to drop at the ball. I 
 H 4 
 
U2 
 
 have remained ever since in the utmost 
 anxiety to know into whose hands it 
 had fallen/ 
 
 ** ' Fear nothing, my dear Carohne/ 
 said I, with precipitation : ' Chance, 
 which gave me so great a shaie in the 
 incidents of that unfortunate night, to 
 repair the tortures I had endured, cau- 
 sed that precious pledge of your good^ 
 ness to fail into my possession: Here is,* 
 continued 1/ that fatal billet which has 
 given me as much torture as it now 
 affords me pleasure. 
 
 " ' Heaven ! could I imagine that I 
 was the object of those tender regards : 
 to see it in the hands of Lord Selwyn, 
 and suppose it intended for ap Thomas!' 
 
 " Upon this, I informed her of the 
 copiVcisation 1 had overheard between 
 
16$ 
 
 Lords Montjoy and Selwyn, of which 
 she was entirely ignorant. 
 
 " I described to her the brutal nr)an- 
 ner in which Lord Montjoy advanced 
 towards me, and of my escape amongst 
 the crowd, not through fear of his lord- 
 ship, but from a wish to avoid an 
 altercation with such blood thirsty 
 miscreants. She seemed touched with 
 my sufferings, and we both reflected, 
 with astonishment, upon the caprice of 
 fortune, which at the very time when 
 she seemed absolutely determined on 
 my ruin, reserved for me the glory of 
 disentangling the intricacy of so many 
 extraordinary adventures. 
 
 " After this elucidation, Caroline 
 resumed the discourse. 
 
 ' n5 
 
1^4 
 
 " * Far from reaping any advantage 
 from the assignation which I gave to 
 Lord Murray, the fatal consequences it 
 brought upon him, have made my 
 father more earnest for the conclusion 
 of my marriage, and my father is deter- 
 mined that on his recovery, the mar- 
 riage shall be solemnized, or I for ever 
 forfeit his esteem and affection. 
 
 " ' You will say that my father is pre- 
 cipitate, — True— but his reasons are not 
 to be confuted, nor can 1 any longer 
 blame his precipitation, since the acci- 
 dent may draw on me an unjust cen- 
 sure, which nothing but my marriage 
 can obliterate. 
 
 " ' But what redoubles my despair, 
 is, that Murray, whom love has ren- 
 dered ^iiffident and clear-sighted, still 
 
165 
 
 continues in an astonishment hp^ 
 chance alone should have directed you 
 so opportunely to his assistance : and 
 1 hope, as you value my future happi- 
 ness, you will assist me to extinguish 
 for ever that spark of jealousy which 
 has taken place in his heart, and that 
 you will avoid every opportunity of 
 appearing in my sight. 
 
 '"Let us part, then, my dear Reuben: 
 you see my inclinations ; you see my 
 duty : farewell ; keep me in your me- 
 mory ; notwithstanding the cruel law 
 which separates us, I shall never forget 
 you/ 
 
 *' A flood of tears arrested her dis- 
 course ; and reaching out to me her 
 hand, 1 fixed my lips thereon with such 
 an inexpressible transport, that I shc)uld 
 h6 
 
156 
 
 have felt happy, most happy, could 
 that have been the last moment of my 
 wretched existence. 
 
 " I recovered myself at length in 
 some degree, and said, 
 
 "'O Caroline, cruel, though kind, you 
 wish me to keep you in my memory, and 
 you say that you shall never forget me, 
 though I am about to lose you for ever 
 and this interview will no doubt be our 
 last. Teach me then how I shall ac- 
 quire that resignation which you recom- 
 mend — teach me how I can ever enjoy 
 a moment of happiness, when my Ca- 
 roline is in the arms of another. 
 
 " ' Alas ! My doom is fixed " fathers 
 have flinty hearts ;'^ yet why my Caro- 
 line should two persons who are so 
 
157 
 
 sincerely attached be so cruelly sepa- 
 rated and for ever. Gan your father 
 hope that you will be happy as Lady 
 Murray, when your heart is given to 
 another ?' 
 
 " Caroline saw my agitation, she pitied 
 me ; but it was evident by her silence, 
 she saw her father's conduct in the same 
 avaricious light, that I had just pictured^ 
 
 " It was in vain that I uttered all that 
 the tenderest passion could dictate ; I 
 at length was obliged to retire, pierced 
 to the soul with insupportable grief. I 
 passed the night in the most exquisite 
 torments of mind which precluded the 
 possibility of rest. 
 
 " The next day I comenced my 
 journey from a scene that hitherto had 
 
158 
 
 brought to me nothino; but misery : on 
 the third day of my departure, I em- 
 barked for France, determining to pass 
 through the Continent. 
 
 " The second day of our leaving Eng- 
 land we were overtaken by a storm, 
 which threatened us with shipwreck ; 
 for two days we were driven about at 
 the mercy of the wind and waves 
 which threatened momentary destruc- 
 tion ; the morning of the third day 
 brought us a calm ; and now we had 
 a fresh calamity to endure ; the igno- 
 rance of our Captain, who declared 
 he knew not where we were, as no 
 reckoning bad been kept during the 
 storm. 
 
 " We continued to sail on at 
 
159 
 
 random, Roping either to faU in with 
 a sail, or reach a port, 
 
 ** We continued in this way until 
 dark, when the man from the mast 
 head, bellowed forth ' land/ and in a 
 few hours we entered a French port, 
 much delighted by being thus rid of 
 our apprehensions. 
 
 " We landed immediately, the ship 
 came to anchor, and proceeded in 
 quest of lodging and refreshment after 
 our dangers/^ 
 
 Henry now requested ap Thomas 
 to retire to rest after the fatigues of 
 his recital, and at a future period he 
 would hear the conclusion. 
 
 His Majesty appeared greatly af- 
 
160 
 
 fee ted at various parts of the nar- 
 rative, and was pleased to express 
 his pity at the variety of misfortunes 
 his favorite had endured. 
 
 It was evident that his Majesty^s 
 doubts were completely banished, 
 and he was almost convinced of the 
 innocence of ap Thomas. 
 
 Notwithstanding his sincere affec- 
 tion for the Queen had nearly blinded 
 his reason ; his Majesty still had jus- 
 tice enough to confess in his own 
 mind, that the accusation against ap 
 Thomas was malicious and without 
 foundation, and he was much more 
 rejoiced at the prospect of the re- 
 establishment of the innocence of ap 
 Thomas, than he should have been 
 in finding him guilty. 
 
161 
 
 Ap Thomas perceived the King 
 was favourably disposed towards him, 
 and though this gave him pleasure 
 inmtterable, still the recital of his 
 past sorrows had made him truly un- 
 happy, and with a heavy heart he 
 departed from the palace. 
 
162 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 
 I5 the mean-while Elizabeth had 
 entirely abandoned herself to rage and 
 jealousy : that fiend had taken such 
 fast hold of her breast, that nothing 
 but the destruction of ap Thomas, 
 she felt assured, could appease he?. 
 
 She saw his coldness, which she 
 called .contempt. She felt convinced 
 that her passion would never be re- 
 
163 
 
 turned, as ap Thomases duty and af- 
 fection to the King was too firm, 
 and his sense of honour too areat, 
 ever to allow him to be guilty of 
 an action so infamous and base. 
 
 She was resolved on his ruin. Her 
 hatred now was as violent and impla- 
 cable, as her love for him had been, 
 and the unfortunate ap Thomas had 
 yet to learn that no enemy was so 
 much to be feared as a " woman 
 scorned/^ 
 
 " Have I stooped to love this 
 man V^ exclaimed the queen, one day, 
 when his coldness flashed across her 
 mind, " Have I so far forgot that dig- 
 nity and duty that 1 ought to have 
 supported ; for so poor a thing as 
 
164 
 
 this !'^ added she with a conteiTiptu- 
 ous sneer. 
 
 " Proud man, thou shalt find that 
 where my love is scorned, my hatred 
 msiy be Jeared / Could'st thou think 
 me so weak, so poor a fool, as to 
 pass in silence, such a contemptuous 
 rejection of my condescension ?'^ 
 
 The Queen paused — she paced her 
 apartment in disordered steps. Her 
 thoughts were so confused, that she 
 could think of no certain plan for 
 the ruin of ap Thomas, further than 
 she had already contrived, but she 
 resolved immediately to see the King, 
 and not to cease her importunities 
 till he had given her revenge on his 
 insolent and contemptuous favorite. 
 
163 
 
 She flattered herself with the thon-^ht 
 of having inspired the credulous Hen- 
 ry with the same malignant jealousy 
 as raged within her own breast, and 
 in a short time she expected to see ap 
 Thomas fall under the effects of that 
 jealousy. 
 
 But she found herself deceived^ 
 when the next opportunity she took 
 to start a discourse to the King upon 
 that subject, he replied as follows: 
 
 *' I think your Majesty must have 
 entirely mistaken the character of 
 ap Thomas ; indeed I am sure you 
 have. I have questioned him with 
 the greatest scrutiny, in order to dis- 
 cover the state of his affections, and 
 to exact from him a full and clear 
 confession. — 
 
166 
 
 ^' I have succeeded — he has opened 
 his heart to me. The result has 
 convinced me that your Majesty was 
 greatly deceived when you supposed 
 ap Thomas entertained any other sen- 
 timents for you, than those he ought 
 to feel for the wife of his sovereign. 
 
 '* His story was told me in confi- 
 dence, and I am confident your Ma- 
 jesty will feel satisfied, when I assure 
 you, that his affection for you is of 
 that chaste nature I have just des- 
 cribed. 
 
 ** He has been very unfortunate ; 
 he has acquainted me with th^ ob- 
 ject of his passion ; he has convinced 
 me that he loves her, and her alone. 
 
 ** He has been particularly unhap- 
 
167 
 
 py, and I (as 1 am sure your Majes- 
 ty would, were you made acquainted 
 with his sufferings) pity him from the 
 bottom of my heart. 
 
 " I have been thus explicit with 
 you, that you may not harbour 
 any animosity against him, and that 
 you will, I hope, receive him in 
 future as my favorite and friends 
 
 " Believe me, I rejoice in his jus- 
 tification — a justification that leaves 
 not the smallest doubt upon mif 
 mind of his innocence; I must beg to 
 add //^// entreaties to those of ap Tho- 
 mas, that you will re-instate him in 
 your favour and good opinion." - 
 
 Those words, instead of calmin^s^ 
 the agitations of Elizabeth, served 
 
168 
 
 but to increase her deadly iie; she 
 ahncst sank under these contending 
 emotions : love, jealousy, rage, and 
 curiosity, alternately invaded her 
 heart; and in spite of her natural dis- 
 simulation, she with difficulty con- 
 cealed the baneful secret. Having 
 recovered herself, she returned for 
 answer: 
 
 " Your communication, my Lord, 
 has served but to heighten my in- 
 dignation against that man, who, 
 having already a female on whom 
 his heart is previously engaged, has 
 chosen me for the object of his rail- 
 lery. 
 
 " But I suspect the tale he has 
 communicated to you, is merely the 
 invention of his fruitful mind. 
 
169 
 
 " Suffer me, .therefore, rather to 
 doubt the truth of this story, wiiich, 
 it appears, has great weight on the 
 mind of your MajeGty, and to assist 
 you in fathoming the bottom of this 
 mystery, which I cannot, by any 
 means, comprehend; and which, no 
 doubt, is a base fabrication to impose 
 upon the known generosity of your 
 Majesty's disposition.*^ 
 
 '' I cannot think it possible," re- 
 phed the King, earnestly, *'• that ap 
 Thomas could be so base as to in- 
 vent so ingenious a defence. 
 
 " No, no, I know him better-— 
 and, indeed, I am surprized your Ma- 
 jesty should suffer a doubt to remain 
 on your m.ind, after what I have said 
 
 VOL. I, I 
 
170 
 
 tespecting him, ^vhich is «// I can in- 
 form you of, consistent with that 
 honour ^vhich I pledged to him/' 
 
 The Queen saw that his Majesty 
 was convinced of the innocence of ap 
 Thomas — she saw that unless some 
 new charge was l)roup;ht against him, 
 her accusation would fall to the ground. 
 After a short pause, she said — 
 
 " I can assure your iNIajesty that 
 I do not wish to be made acquainted 
 with any part of ap Thomas's story; 
 more especially as you have given 
 your ]io?iot\ to keep his secret, 
 and that I know is held so sacred 
 with your Majesty, that I congratulate 
 myself on the subject being of so lit- 
 tle consequence.^* 
 
171 
 
 This v.'a3 spoken in a tone of the 
 keenest irony. The pride of the 
 Queen was evidently hurt. 
 
 She had expected a minute account 
 of what had passed between ap Tho- 
 Tias and his Majesty. The result 
 has shown how greatly she was dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 Elizabeth now began to converse 
 on different subjects, taking ?«n op- 
 portunity of mentioning, occasionally, 
 all the, ladies of the Court, celebrat-^ 
 ed for their beauty, ia order, if pos- 
 sible, to exact from his Majesty the 
 secret. 
 
 But he, displeased with an inqui- 
 sitiveness w hich he was by no means 
 disposed to satisfy, ended the con- 
 I 2 
 
175 
 
 versation, and retired to liis apart- 
 ment. 
 
 The Queen, thus left at liberty, 
 pondered for a few moments on the 
 late scene between his Majesty and 
 herself, and she determined to senil^, 
 for Lady Lichfield, and communicate 
 to her all she had heard. 
 
 "I was before sensible," said the 
 Queen to her confidante, as she en- 
 tered the apartment, '' of the just in- 
 dignation which the slights of an un- 
 grateful favorite inspires in an amor- 
 ous and generous breast. 
 
 " But, until this moment, I had 
 conceived only faint and imperfect 
 ideas of the racking, and insupporta- 
 ble tortures of real jealousy ! 
 
173 
 
 " Ap Thomas is in love! That is 
 a fact beyond a doubt. Perhaps even 
 now, in concert with my unworthy 
 rival, he laughs at my weakness, and 
 derides my impotent resentment. 
 
 " With what triumph and satis- 
 faction ought she not to receive the 
 sacrifice of all my tenderness, and my 
 eager forwardness, while, abandoned 
 to the cruellest agitations, I consume 
 myself in fruitless regrets ! 
 
 " No V^ continued she, with stiM. 
 greater rage, " they shall never tri- 
 umph with impunity over Elizabeth. 
 
 " Their insolence, their temerity, 
 and their disdain, shall be punished 
 by their death : their blood only shall 
 satiate my revenge, and while in the 
 
pangs of death, will I mock their sui- 
 lerings by deriding their hopeless love? 
 
 " You Litchfield" added she, ad- 
 dressing her wily confidant, "you must, 
 before this fatal scene takes place, assist 
 me in finding out my odious rival. 
 
 For a time they suspected Lady 
 Murray, but the retired life w^hich she 
 led, banished their suspicion, although 
 her merit and great personal attraction 
 might warrant them ; but there was so 
 little appearance of that lady being the 
 person they sought for, that they could 
 not continue a moment in that opi- 
 nion. 
 
 They named in succession all the 
 ladies with whom ap Thomas had the 
 least intimacy, or even acquaintance ; 
 
17^ 
 
 but he showed so little appearance of 
 attachment to any one in particular, 
 that they could not possibly fix any 
 certain judgment. 
 
 At last it was concluded between 
 them, th^t Lady Lichfield should take 
 care to have his motions so narrowly 
 watched, that it should be impossible 
 for him to make one step without her 
 knowledge. 
 
 The Queen was now no longer 
 influenced by the tender impulses of 
 love, but, on the contrary, was pre- 
 cipitately hurried forward by an im- 
 petuous torrent of fury, revenge, and 
 aversion. 
 
 Some time elapsed before she 
 made any discovery that appeared to 
 I 4 
 
176 
 
 satisfy her unjust resentment ; but, 
 at length, she imag.?,ed she had 
 found the object of her hatred. 
 
177 
 
 CHAP. V\ 
 
 "Lady Litchfield one day brought 
 her Majesty a small box with a minia- 
 ture in it, which she had found in one 
 of the apartments in the palace ; and 
 the beauty of the diamonds with which 
 it was ornamented, was a sufficiently 
 convincing proof of its owner being a 
 person of consideration. 
 
 I 5 
 
I7S 
 
 The Queen, who interpreted every 
 thing according to the dictates oi' 
 hev passions, without consulting reason, 
 iimnediately concluded, that it had 
 been dropped by ap Thomas. 
 
 She opened it with the utmost 
 precipitation, and immediately knew 
 the i'eatures of Caroline, daughter of 
 the late deceased Loitl Montgomery. 
 
 That young lady was extremely 
 beautiful, of an illustrious family, and 
 a vast fortune : her father, upon his 
 death bed, recon'imended her to the 
 care of Lady Loftus, a widow relation, 
 by whom the beautiful Caroline had 
 been brought up from her infancy. 
 
 Ap Thomas, who had a great 
 veneration and friendship for that 
 
179 
 
 family, sometimes visited her : there 
 wanted no more to make the highest 
 and most groundless suspici®n pass the 
 imagination of the jealous Ehzabeth for 
 incontestible truth. 
 
 She blindly accused her want of 
 penetration, for having been so long 
 imposed upon by that imaginary cor- 
 respondence, and resolved to sacrifice 
 to her vengeance, those two innocent 
 victims. 
 
 She immediately commanded Lady 
 Lichfield to acquaint her with all she 
 knew concerning Caroline : she was 
 answered as follows : 
 
 *' Since that young lady's appearance 
 at court, and your Majesty doubtless 
 remembers her first appearance, several 
 I 6 
 
persons of distifiCtioii li-ave iviode fruit- 
 less attempts to ^^aiii her afiections ; 
 and, for three moiUiis pa^-t I /ad ?>!•/- 
 renton has been her passionate ad- 
 mirer. 
 
 " This noljlcman was one of the 
 bravest and most gallant men in Britain, 
 Ijnt was of so hasty and violent a tem- 
 per, that, during the first motions of 
 his passion, he was entirely deaf to 
 reason, and, it was thought, that upon 
 this consideration the young lady had 
 refused to declare in his favour.'^ 
 
 " Her love to ap Thomas^ shall cost 
 her dcar,'^ cried the enraged Queen^ 
 '•" she shall soon feel the effects of the 
 fury she has kindled in my breast. In 
 sacrificing her lover, I am resolved ta 
 expose her to the violence of Merentona 
 
" J8I 
 
 'i Such is my vesentiricnt, such JTre 
 the convulsions with which my tortor- 
 ed heart is torn, that, provided the 
 criminal is drawn down the precipice, 
 1 shall not scruple to sacrifice the inno- 
 cent likewise. 
 
 " Here,^' said she to her confidant, 
 " artfully convey this miniature into ap 
 Thomases pocket, and leave to my ad- 
 dress the care of making the advantage, 
 from your so doing, which my vengeance 
 expects/^ 
 
 Having given Lady Lichfield that 
 order, which, in all probability, was 
 likely to cause all that mischief that 
 revengeful women desired, she passed 
 to the King's apartments, and there, 
 so well disguising her concern, that 
 none could possibly perceive the agi- 
 
182 
 
 tations of lier soul, she proposed the 
 introduction of cards, and named the 
 persons who were to be concerned. 
 
 Henry, who lived and breathed 
 only for her, and whose passion increa- 
 sed every hour, readily agreed to it '; 
 but far from proving a diversion, it 
 produced very different effects. 
 
 It may be imagined that Lord rNie- 
 renton and ap Thomas were not for^ 
 gotten. 
 
 The parties being assembled, and' 
 engaged in play, Lady Lichfield mad^ 
 a sign to the Queen, that she had 
 executed her order, and showed her 
 the ribband attached to the box hang- 
 ing out of the pocket of ap Thomas. 
 
lS:i . 
 
 The Queen made Henry take 
 notice of it, and gave him to understand 
 that she intended to steal it. 
 
 He would willingly have prevented 
 her, as being apprehensive that it might 
 be Lady Murray's ; but with what 
 astonishment w^as he seized when the 
 Queen, having, soon after, with great 
 abruptness, executed her design, ex- 
 posed to the whole company the like- 
 ness of Caroline. 
 
 The confusion of ap Thomas, was 
 indescribable, at seeing a picture, 
 which, until then, he had never be- 
 held, snatched out of his pocket. 
 
 The King was highly incensed for 
 having been, as he thonght, so grossly 
 imposed upon by his favourite ; and 
 
184 
 
 Merenton was so much irritated, that 
 it was with the utmost difficulty he 
 was able to contain his rage within the 
 bounds of moderation. 
 
 Elizabeth, on the contrary, with a 
 well feigned gaiety, rallied ap Thomas 
 to such a degree, that, in spite of his 
 natural vivacity and presence of mind, 
 he remained so confounded and em- 
 barrassed as to what answers he should 
 return, that he confirmed the three 
 persons concerned, in their first sus- 
 picions. 
 
 Lord Merenton, on his part, unable 
 longer to overcome his passion, left the 
 apartment, the Queen having already 
 broke off play, out of her impatience to 
 take advantage of the discord she had 
 so inhumanly stirred up. 
 
1S.5 
 
 i'lie Kino:, /vvho knew nothing of 
 the interest Merenton had in Caroline, 
 suffered apThooias to depart, \yho had 
 no sooner got without the verge of the 
 court, but he was attacked by that jea- 
 lous lover, who sword in hand, fell 
 upon him with such fury, that consi- 
 dering the bravery of the parties, their 
 rencounter might have proved fatal to 
 both, had not several of their friends, 
 witnesses of the attack, parted them in 
 time to prevent the dangerous conse- 
 quences of their quariel. 
 
 They were both conducted to their 
 respective lodgings, where ap Thomas, 
 as soon as he had disengaged himself 
 from the crowd which had follov/ed him 
 home, began seriously to reflect upon 
 the source of that, unaccountable ad- 
 venture^ 
 
\S6 
 
 lie doubted not but that it was 
 some new project of the Queen^s. It 
 gave him no extraordinary concern, he 
 bein£^ accustomed to the persecutions 
 of that unjust female. 
 
 But he was apprehensive it might 
 reach the ear of Lady Murray to his 
 disadvantage. 
 
 The greatness of his prudence and 
 discretion had all along prevented 
 him from discovering to that lady the 
 sentiments the Queen had for him, 
 and, consequently, he had been oblig- 
 ed to conceal from her the confession 
 which he had been obliged to make 
 to the King. 
 
 But as in what had happened, 
 thevt director of his destiny was im* 
 
1S7 
 
 mediately concrrned, he resolved, that 
 same eveninfi, to acquaint hi^r with 
 the particulars, and to cast the in- 
 cidents of ihat unfortunate adventure 
 upon some unknown enemy. 
 
 lie was still occupied with tliese 
 reflections, when his brother Charles 
 efiteced his chamber. 
 
 He looked on ap Thomas with a 
 severity to which the latter was un- 
 used to receive from him. Ap Tho- 
 mas saw that his brother was greatly 
 agitated, and he had no doubt but 
 that the late transaction had reached 
 his ears, and no doubt the account 
 had been greatly exaggerated. 
 
 But conscious of his own inno- 
 cence, he waited patiently for his 
 
188 
 
 brother to open the purport of his 
 visit. 
 
 *' Brother/^ at length said he> 
 " what is this I have heard? You 
 have engaged yourself in another 
 quarrel, though the effects of a recent 
 one, can scarcely be forg^jtten — I am 
 sorry, and indeed ashamed to say, 
 that your conduct has displeased me 
 much." 
 
 '' Know you nol,^^ replied ap Tho- 
 mas, somewhat impatiently, " that 1 
 was attacked so fiercely, that had I 
 not immediately acted upon the de- 
 fensive, my life must have fallen a 
 victim to the rage and mistaken jea- 
 lousy of that Lord? 
 
 '^ Unworthy indeed is he to be a 
 
189 
 
 Peer of England. He has disgraced 
 the name. And even his Lordship's 
 friends will admit that he attacked me 
 like an assassin. 
 
 " Why then is that fiown upon 
 your brow ? Can 3^011 possibly blame 
 my conduct ? Or would you have 
 me tamely stand and suffer the as- 
 sassin's steel to be plunged in my 
 heart ? 
 
 " I view that Lord's condi!ct in 
 ^o infamous a light, that I shall never 
 cease to despise him, for his dastardly 
 and unmanly attack upon my life. 
 
 " Even had 1 been gidltij, I should 
 not have deserved assassination. And 
 if you are come here to load me with 
 
190 
 
 reproaches for my late conduct, I would 
 advise you to make yourself acquainted 
 with all the circumstances, before you 
 determine in favor of a man who has 
 acted so Hke an assassin. '^ 
 
 Ap Thomas had never spoken 
 in this strain to his brother before, 
 but his rage, at finding him take part 
 with his enemies, w^s too much for 
 him to bear; he had expected con- 
 solation from him, instead of those 
 severe looks which his brother had 
 given him during his visit. 
 
 Charles at length said, *' 1 do not 
 mean to reproach you on that sub- 
 ject, I come to charge you with dj's- 
 simulation, as the late transaction 
 concerns me more nearly than the 
 
191 
 
 rest of the Court, since, ns I have 
 entertained for you the utmost afliec- 
 tion, you have, notwithstanding, made 
 love to Caroline, and have concealed 
 it from me.'^ 
 
 " For heaven's sake, brother,*' in- 
 terrupted ap Thomas, impatiently, 
 *' of what do yon accuse me ? Prav 
 pardon my violence. I am innocent. 
 Do not, I intreat you, look on me 
 \vith such contempt. 
 
 " This affair must certaiuly affect 
 vou more than you have declared. 
 Be that as it may, 1 hope you will 
 believe me when 1 assert that I am 
 guiltless. 
 
 " I truly respect that deserving and 
 
19'2 
 
 amiable young lad/, but I assure you, 
 that my heart is incapable of feeling a 
 warmer sentiment for her. 
 
 " Do not, I intreat you, let your 
 anger, be added to those of my ene- 
 mies, who would persuade you that 
 1 love that lady, when I declare to 
 you solemnly, that it is impossible 
 for me ever to feel more than esteem 
 tor her/' 
 
 '* What !" replied Charles, smiling, 
 *' the picture of a beauty is found 
 upon a man, and he pretends easily 
 to persuade the world, that he has 
 only respect and esteem for the object 
 who bestows that favour 1 
 
 " Ah ! Reuben ! Do not any longer 
 
193 
 
 attempt to conceal from me what you 
 cannot possibly keep from public 
 knowledge.'' 
 
 " I understand you not. Vour 
 ironical remarks, Charles, are ill* 
 timed. The public opinion is n se- 
 condary consideration compared with 
 your's. 
 
 '* 1 thought vou had ahvas^s been 
 in the habit of taking my word, and 
 never, till nov/, did you question my 
 veracity. 
 
 " But I see I have lost your con- 
 confidence ; you credit the asser- 
 tions of others in preference to those 
 of your brother. 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 
 
 ** You have certainly a right to 
 think and act for yourself, but I did 
 not know I had given you any reason 
 to suppose that I should depart from 
 my tried veracity. 
 
 ** Charles, your anger is more dead- 
 ly than the sword of the assassin. Do 
 not continue to suppose me capable 
 of telling you a falshood. 
 
 " The world always judge by ap- 
 pearances, but I must confess that 
 I expected a dilTerent conduct from 
 my brother. 
 
 *' Believe me Charles, that how- 
 ever appearances may be against me, 
 I can, nevertheless, safely avow, that 
 though it is undeniably certain, that 
 
195 
 
 the miniature you mention was found 
 upon me, yet, upon my honor, it was 
 not placed there by me, nor tlo I 
 know by what means it could pos- 
 sibly have come there." 
 
 " Of that I am equally ignorant/^ 
 interrupted Charles, assuming a seri- 
 ous air; but I will no longer keep you 
 in suspense concerning the person 
 to whom it belongs. 
 
 " I lost it in the palace, and it 
 was upon me, that the amiable Ca- 
 roline conferred that favour, a fa- 
 vour, of which I have proved my 
 unworthiness, by taking so little care 
 of it. 
 
 " 1 have to reproach myself for 
 having concealed my passion fro mi 
 K 9 
 
196 
 
 you; but you ought to pardon my 
 keeping a secret, since that is the 
 only pleasure of love. 
 
 " I will now make amends for 
 my fault, by an ingenuous recital 
 ^^f the origin of the love I have for 
 that lady/' 
 
ISf 
 
 CHAP. Vlil. 
 
 Charles ap Thomas commencfd 
 his narrative, as follows: 
 
 " I have already confessed to you, 
 my dear Reuben, that I ought not 
 to have upbraided you for a want of 
 confidence on your part, since you 
 will have an equal right to accuse 
 7ne of the same fault. 
 
*198 
 
 ^^* And I mast confess that bad 
 not the incident of the] miniature 
 taken place, most likely you would 
 have remained in ignorance of what 
 I am now about to inform you of; 
 for I should have hesitated on this 
 subject, to make a confidant even 
 of a brother. 
 
 " But I am sure you will par- 
 don this omission of my affection 
 for you ; and believe me, should I 
 ever lose your friendship and affec- 
 tion, it would make me truly mi- 
 serable, for I covet no man's good 
 opinion with so much ardour as my 
 dear brother Reuben^s. 
 
 " But to my story — 
 
 "It is now three years since 
 
199 
 
 I conceived favorable sentiments for 
 the lovely and accomplished Caroline, 
 and such is the good nature, and 
 winning softness of that sweet *girl, 
 that " what at fii'st was friendship 
 soon ripened into love." 
 
 " And I may venture to say, that 
 it is likewise three years since I 
 have been blessed with a return of 
 my affection ; for, by a happy sympa- 
 thy, our hearts, at one and the same 
 time, felt the tenderest effects of 
 that soothing passion. 
 
 " You, doubtless, remember, my 
 dear brother, that I ran through all 
 my studies and exercises with the 
 young Renoard, and that, from our 
 very infancy, the strictest friendship 
 K 4 
 
arid iiiclliiation for each othc^r com- 
 menced between us. 
 
 ••About the time I mentioned, 
 he took a journey into the country 
 to visit his mother; and to whose 
 virtue and great merit 3^ou are no 
 stranger. 
 
 *' After he had made some stay 
 there, he began to be uneasy and 
 melancholy ni our separation, and 
 wrote me such pressing letters to 
 come to their seat, that, at length, 
 I determined to gratify his request, 
 and prevailed upon three young gen- 
 tlemen of the names of Beresford, 
 Cleremont, and Russell, to accompa- 
 ny me, to our friend in his soli- 
 tude. 
 
201 
 
 " Another letter from Renoard, 
 hastened our journey sooner than 
 we had intended, 
 
 " He wrote to me, ' That, in or- 
 der to render the country more agree- 
 able to uSj at our arrival, we should 
 chuse a certain day, when all the 
 ladies of that part would attend as 
 shepherdesses at a rural ball he in- 
 tended to give, to welcome us. 
 
 " That, if we did not find it an- 
 swer the idea he gave U8 of it, we 
 should, however, be sure of seeing 
 some very beautiful young crea- 
 tures. 
 
 " In order to avoid any incon- 
 venience resulting from our appear- 
 
 K 6 
 
202 
 
 ance we should come habited a 
 shepherds. 
 
 " That, under favour of that dis- 
 guise, we might perhaps, inspire with 
 love some hearts that had never yet 
 sighed. 
 
 " That, for his own part, he %vould 
 not fail of being present at a diver- 
 sion which so agreeably flattered his 
 inclinations, and to that purpose 
 he had, already, prepared his dis-* 
 guise. 
 
 " This letter I communicated to 
 our above-mentioned friends, and we 
 all agreed to follow his instructions ; 
 and at the appointed time we com- 
 menced our journey towards Glou« 
 
203 
 
 cestershire, the seat of festivity, very 
 well disposed to participate of the 
 promised satisfaction. 
 
 " We procured our shepherds habits 
 at a village some distance from the 
 place assigned for the assembly. 
 
 " We took some care that they 
 should be neat and gallant, but not 
 rich, and we doubted not but that they 
 were still too magnificent for the 
 simplicity of the characters we were 
 to meet. 
 
 *^' The mansion to which we were 
 going was situated in a plain, surrounded 
 by lovely meadows, enanielled with 
 flowers of every kind, through which 
 ran a brook the clearness of whose 
 k6 
 
204 
 
 waters might have vied in clearness 
 with the finest chrystal. 
 
 " The house appeared plain, but 
 commodious. Before we could arrive 
 at it, we were obhged to pass through 
 a small coppice, with which it was en- 
 compassed ► 
 
 " We foxmd it full of young shep- 
 herdesses, who, in little troops, w^ere 
 dancing with their lovers, to the sound 
 of the tabor and pipe, which made the 
 surrounding scene appear agreeably en- 
 chanting, 
 
 "The shepherds, with good voices^ 
 sing certain sonnets, of which copies 
 were given us.. 
 
 " All around were placed tables 
 
105 
 
 covered with delicious viands and or-* 
 namented with flowers. It was with 
 great difficulty we disengaged ourseWes- 
 from those lovely bands ; and advanced 
 towards the house. 
 
 "The courtyard had no other enclo- 
 sure than a thin hedge of jessamine and 
 honey suckles, which permitted the 
 eye to enjoy a most agreeable pros- 
 pect, 
 
 " Having traversed the court, we 
 came into the hall, in the midst of 
 which was erected a little throne of 
 roses, which supported a fine large 
 piece of painting, whereon were curi* 
 ously represented the emblems of iov^ 
 and reason. 
 
 •* This contract between love and 
 
206 
 
 reason somewhat surprised my compa- 
 nions and myself; but, upon further 
 examination, we were more so, to find 
 our likenesses, in pastoral habits, drawn 
 on the same piece, and so artfully and 
 naturally executed, that we had no 
 manner of difficulty to know for whon^ 
 they were intended. 
 
 " Reason on one side, under the 
 form of a woman with a severe aspect 
 seemed to forbid us entrance into a 
 delicious garden. 
 
 " Opposite to her stood love, who, 
 with a flattering countenance, seemed 
 to use his utmost efforts to draw u8 
 thither : 
 
 " Under the figure which represented 
 
207 
 
 reason, were some neat and appropri- 
 ate lines ; whfch pleased my compani- 
 ons and I very much. 
 
 '• There were likewise some happy 
 lines under the fiofure of love which 
 gave us much pleasure, from the neat- 
 ness and ingenuity of the style. 
 
 •' As we were, with pleasure, exa- 
 mining the gallant devices of the figures 
 and conversing upon the beauty of the 
 poetry, Renoard in a very handsome 
 dress, came in laughing. 
 
 " Having mutually embraced, he 
 told us, ' that, since we had escaped 
 the snares which had been laid against 
 our liberty in the little wood, he 
 thought it his duty, as a real friend, by 
 
208 
 
 the emblems of that piece, to give us 
 notice of what we had to fear if we 
 passed on any farther/ 
 
 ** We in our turn, answered, gaily,, 
 that the enchantments which w^e had 
 hitherto undergone, had not put our 
 hearts to any ven/ violent trial ; that, 
 his emblems, beautiful and ingenious 
 at they were, had not any dangerous 
 effects ; and, that a person of his age 
 and figure was much better to back 
 the dictates of Jove, than the lessons of 
 reason, and, to conclude, we intreated. 
 him no longer to defer exposing 
 us to the perils with which we were 
 threatened. 
 
 " At these words, he conducted us 
 into several apartments hung round- 
 
^09 
 
 with bcautit'al flowers, whose odours 
 perfumed every part of that deUcious 
 place. 
 
 " The many cages which were placed 
 around every window, and full of 
 various kinds of singing birds, afforded 
 our ears inexpressible delight by the 
 sweet warblings of their melodious 
 throats. 
 
 '* These objects redoubled our curi- 
 osity of knowing in what all these 
 galantries would terminate*^* 
 
10 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 " We came at length into the saloon 
 where the ball was to take place ; but 
 whatever ideas we had formed con- 
 cerning what we should find there, 
 the reality far exceeded the vivacity of 
 our imaginations. 
 
 " Every object in that lovely assem- 
 bly delighted the eye; a ravishing 
 s}'mphony charmed the ear ; neatness 
 
and elegance blended every where dis- i 
 played the very quintessence of a polite 
 taste. 
 
 ** But we were about to receive j 
 greater pleasure than from the necessi- j 
 ties of art, with which we were sur- ' 
 rounded. ; 
 
 '^ The appearance of about twenty ] 
 enchanting young beauties, habited in '1 
 character, appeared alone worthy oitr 
 whole admiration, ■ 
 
 " Renoard who was delighted with 
 the confusion into which we were | 
 thrown, soon made us confess, that the i 
 danger he had told us we were likely ; 
 to be in, was but too real. 
 
 " * You have a taste too, delicate, 
 
 0.\ 
 
and too distinguishing/ said he, 'to 
 mistake yourselves concerning the rank 
 and" merit of these shepherdesses wl^o 
 cause that visible confusion. 
 
 *' *But, as a token of the honours in- 
 tended you at this fete^ all the shep- 
 herds of the assembly leave you at 
 liberty to make your choice. 
 
 " * It is here my dear brother, that I 
 beg you to admire the effects of sympa- 
 thy ; and it is only in order to make 
 you sensible of its power, that I am so 
 particular in the detail of this agreeable 
 adventure. 
 
 " There were certainly in that assem- 
 bly some persons not inferior in beauty 
 to Caroline ; but my heart made not a 
 moment's hesitation, and,, without 
 
^1^ 
 
 -concerning myself of what became of 
 my friends, I flew, and cast myself at 
 the feet of that amiable virgin. 
 
 " Her person and dress was incon- 
 ceivably charming ; and though her 
 only ornaments were flowers, (as she 
 represented Flora) she less imitated 
 that goddess in her dress;» than in her 
 charms. 
 
 " ' Amiable shepherdess,' said I to 
 her, ' it is dangerous for strange shep- 
 herds, like us, to tread this ground. We 
 shall soon pay the price of our temerity 
 with the loss of our hearts, and the 
 only thing we shall carry off, will be 
 our confusion for our defeat. 
 
 *' *This is indisputably a net which 
 
the mi;5cbievous Cupid has spread to 
 ontrapour liberty. 
 
 *' * For my own part, I submit with- 
 out offering; resistance, and willingly 
 surrender my heart as a victim to your 
 lovely eyes, which are, doubtless, the 
 snares which that tyrannic deity makes 
 use, in order to triumph over it.^ " 
 
 " ' Fear nothing gallant shepherd,^ 
 interrupted Caroline, with a voice that 
 pierced my very soul, * the god of love 
 lias not intrusted us with the manage* 
 ment of his conquests; we should but 
 very indifferently acquit ourselves of so 
 important a commission. 
 
 " * Nevertheless, if he had conde- 
 scended to trust me with such a glori- 
 ous ehxirge, both he and 1 should have 
 
21i 
 
 had cause to be extremely proud for hav- 
 ing subjected to his sway a shepherd 
 hke yourself. 
 
 ** I was perfectly charmed with that 
 obliging reply, and the conversation 
 was continued with infinite brilliancy 
 of wit on her side, and abundance of 
 love on mine; for in reality, my 
 heart was touched, notwithstanding 
 I still was ignorant of the name of 
 the beauty who had obtained such 
 an ascendency over my taculties. 
 
 *' We danced together several times, 
 and 1 was very much surprized at the 
 graceful and agreeable manner of her 
 performance. 
 
 «' After the dance we were ushered 
 into an adjoining room to partake of 
 an elegant collation. 
 
216 
 
 " After having past the greater part 
 of the night in that Httle enchanted 
 palace we broke up, and going out, 
 Ave found several chariots, beautifully 
 adorned with gilding and paintings 
 which, by the light of a great nunn- 
 ber of torches, conducted us to the 
 mansion of Renoard. 
 
 V I forgot to mention, that the 
 saloon, in which we danced, was 
 fletached from the house. 
 
 " During the short interval of this 
 little journey, from that obliging friend, 
 I obtained intelligence of the name 
 and condition of the amiable person 
 who had made such an impression 
 upon my heart. 
 
 " He told me, that she was called 
 
S17 ^ 
 
 Caroline, the daughter of the late ^ 
 
 Lord Montgomery : that she was left \ 
 
 to the care of his aunt, who had ' 
 brought her up from her infancy. 
 
 *' That being of an ancient family, 
 
 and great fortune, Lady Loftus, the , 
 
 aunt, was very desirous, that he should j 
 pay his addresses to that deserving 
 
 young lady; but, that his inclination ■ 
 
 being so opposite to engagements of J 
 
 that nature, he had entreated Lady j 
 
 Loftus, not to force his inclinations, I 
 notwithstanding he was sensible that 
 
 Caroline had no less a share of sweet- -' 
 
 ness in her temper, than she had t 
 
 of charms m her wit and person.'^ i 
 
 j 
 
 *' He likewise gave my companions, ^ 
 
 who were present at the fete, an ac- j 
 
 count of the remainder of the com- j 
 
 pany ; the men were all persons ^^ ] 
 
 VOL* I. h 
 
21 s ; 
 
 considerable distinction in that part of J 
 the country ; but few of the ladies weret i 
 of considerable birth. 
 
 " Our arrival at the mansion inter- 
 rupted our conversation ; and, as- it 
 was very late, every one retired ta 
 the apartment appointed lor him.. 
 
 ** The next morning Rendard pre»- 
 sented us lo his mother^ and aunt,, 
 who was on a visit tkere ; the former 
 rallied us on our last night's adventure, '. 
 and told us, that her son,, who forson^.e 
 time had intended that small ente> 
 tainment, had sufficient leisure to pre- \ 
 pare that piece which had so agreeably 
 surprised us.. 
 
 " I again saw Caroline^ and found ) 
 her so deserving, that I no longer strove ' 
 to combat with my passion.. J 
 
 i 
 
" I took an opportunity, in a seriou&> 
 nnanner to declare myself, and after- 
 some hesi^ation, she confessed," That 
 thesame sympathy which had madfe me 
 her votary, had forcibly determined her 
 to declare in my favour,, but that we 
 should conceal our sentiments till she 
 should be at liberty to dispose of herself, 
 
 "Ever since. Lady Loftus, who appro- 
 ved of my passion, permits me to pay 
 my addresses, and nothing could have 
 disturbed my happy state, had not the- 
 late fatal accident poisoned the sweet- 
 ness of it. We will wait until it shall 
 please our sovereign, of his bounty, to 
 advance me to some post worthy her 
 fortune and merit. But the addresses 
 paid her by Lord Merenton, gave me 
 great uneasiness. 1 expressed my ap- 
 prehensions to Caroline, who endea- 
 voured to persuade me, that my sus- 
 
220 
 
 picions were groundless, hut failing in 
 this, she presented me with her picture 
 as a solemn pledge of her aflfection, 
 which I had the misfortune to lose in 
 the palace/^ 
 
 Charles had just finished his recital, 
 when a a messenger entered from his 
 Majesty, saying that he wished to see 
 Ap Thomas. He immediately rose to 
 obey the summons, but his brother 
 would by no means leave him ; they 
 therefore agreed to bear each other 
 company. 
 
 Ap Thomas was happy to find him of 
 this opinion, and they followed the 
 page to the apartment of his Majesty. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Printed bj/ M. Alkrij Paternotttr-RoW} London* 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILUNO.S-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 088985772 
 
 ^ 
 
 r