The Spanish decameron, or, Ten novels ... made English by R.L.

THE Amorous Miser: A NOVEL.

AT Sevil in Spain, a Lady, being young, and having lately buried her Husband; resolv'd to remove into another quarter of the City: and being sumptuous in Cloths, and perfect∣ly handsome, did not as many other Widows are wont to do, who, as soon as their Hus∣bands are march'd off, dress themselves as fine as Hands can make them, and deriving a little advantage from their Mourning seek out op∣portunity to shew themselves to the Gallants purely out of a Design to get other Husbands. But ours, though young, had had so great Experience, that she resolved to play a game and that no small one.

There was come into the Fleet from Peru, a Man Born amidst the Mountains of Leon, who had begun his Fortune by the Relation of a Servant to a Merchant of Sevil, and one who, upon his Master's Cost, and some little Trading into the Indies was grown Rich, in∣somuch that in few Years, he was accounted one of the ablest Merchants that traded to Peru. He makes another Voyage thither, being advanced to a certain publick Employ∣ment, and having thereby added much to his Wealth, he was return'd again to Sevil, in that years Fleet, where he sold the Commo∣dities he had brought over at double what they had cost him; so fortunate was he in all his Ventures.

Mercator (so was this lucky Merchant cal∣led) was a Person of about fifty years of Age; the most Covetous and wretchedst na∣tured Fellow that ever was. He grudged himself what he eat and drunk, though even below Moderation; nay he many times fa∣sted purposely to spare so much. He had no more Servants than he needed; his whole Train consisted in a Factor, a Lacquey, a Moor-Slave, who looked to his Mule, and a Maid to dress his pitiful Commons. He kept his Family so •…•…ort in point of Victuals, that it was wondred any one would serve him; his Miserly Disposi•…•… found the whole City

Discourse; another would have been asha∣med of it, but he only laugh'd at it, applau∣ding himself, and making it his whole Busi∣ness to heap up Wealth, whereof he had a∣bundance.

Corrina (so was this Designess call'd) hea∣ring this account of him, began to consider, and weigh all the Circumstances, and after she had a little reflected thereon, she conclu∣ded, that he might be made an excellent Cul∣ly, whom if she could smite, as she expected, her Condition would be better than ever it had been. Mercator liv'd without the City, in a little Tenement he had purchased of one who owed him some Money, which he knew not well how to get in otherwise; for he was naturally so perfect a Slave to his Profit, that he little minded his Pleasures. So that he got that Tenement, with a neat House on it, very cheap, and in Satisfaction for his dept; it stood near St. Bernard's Monastery, in the midst of a pleasant Valley. He liv'd there to spare the Rent of a House in the City; he had so fortified it, that no Thieves, either by Day or Night, could make any breach into it; all the Doors were of extraordinary thickness, the Windows had Bars and Grates, the Walls very high and very strong. He had secured the place within with many Fire-Arms, which he always kept Charged, and

many Halbards and Partisans which were dis∣posed of near the Gate. He was forc'd to take one Person more into his Retinue, to wit, a Fellow to order his Garden, and to make the best Advantage he could of it, a married Man, who should carry the Fruits and other things to the Market to make the best of them, so vigilant was his Avarice. His Treasure was disposed into a secret place behind his Bed where he lay himself, in strong Iron-Chests; and every Night before he went to Bed, he, like an over-doing Constable, searched all the Rooms in the House. Thus did this wretch'd Fellow live, though he had no Children to succeed him, for he had ne∣ver been married, nor intended to be, though very Advantageous Matches were dayly prof∣fered him.

Corrina had laid her Design to bring in this Covetous Merchant into the Noose, and to effect it, she communicated it to a Person who was excellent at such things; this Man had played some pranks at Madrid, which had occasioned his Removal thence to Cadiz, and his Atchievements there, his departure thence to Sevil, where he went lurking up and down, and spending some Money, which it cost him more hazard than pains to get. He was one of the most Accomplished Men in point of Thievery of his time, but very fear∣ful

of falling into the hands of Justice, lest there might rise up in Judgment against him some of his former Offences; which were such as had preferred him to the Galleys. This Person (whose Name was Vasquez,) Cor∣rina took to assist her in the compassing her Design. Having given him Instructions what he was to do, and told him, that Mercator re∣turn'd not to his House, till about Sun-set, as he was wont to do, they both passed by Mercator's Garden, he on a Mule, and she on a good Horse. She had put off her Mourn∣ing, and put on another Dress, with a Hat and Feather, as the Sevil Ladies are wont to go, when they are in the Country.

They passed by the Garden, just as the Gardener was opening the Door. Vasquez, coming up to him, Friend, said he, here is a Lady would not willingly go into the City to day. If you will afford her entertainment this Night, I will satisfie you to your own Desires; besides that you will do us an ex∣traordinary Kindness, for you will thereby prevent a great Misfortune, which she can∣not otherwise avoid. The Gardener, who was afraid of his Masters Displeasure, told him that he durst not be so bold, as to re∣ceive any Person into his House, without his Knowledge, though he had not expresly for∣bid him the doing of any such thing. But

Vasquez, who knew the Vertue and Power of many, took a considerable Summ out of his Pocket, and giving it to the Gardener, here, Friend, (said he) take this in earnest of more. The Gardener's Wife longing to know what Business they might have with her Husband, comes up to them, and seeing the proffers were made him, undertook to lodge the Gentlewoman in her own Room, making it appear to her Husband, that their Master should never come to the Knowledge of it, in regard their Houses were at a good distance one from the other, and that they should not be so unhappy, being certain, that that Night he would not search the whole House, as many times a toy took him in the Head to do.

In short the Wifes Arguments prevailed, so that the Gardener was content the Gentle∣woman should Lodge secretly that Night at his House, upon the receipt of six Royals which Vasquez gave him as an earnest of a greater Summ promised him. He thereup∣on took Corrina off the Horse, and brought her into the Garden, where she took leave of Vasquez, who had already received the Orders whereof we shall give an account hereafter.

Being come into the Gardener's Room, she took off what cover'd her Face, and a∣stonished the Gardener and his Wife at the sight of her Beauty, though she seemed to be very Melancholy, as if some great Misfortune had happened to her, to wit, that which she had ready to relate to Mercator, in Case she might come to Discourse with him. The Sun was hardly set, but he came into the Garden: The Negro entring a little before to have the Door opened, which he himself locked on the inside, and carried the Key a∣long with him. He chanced to be that Night a little more weary than ordinary, which occasioned his going to Bed very betimes, af∣ter he had eaten a piece of Bread, and some of his own Garden-Fruits, and washed them down with a Glass of Spring-Water. He only visited that part of the House where he lodg∣ed himself, and came not down to the Gar∣deners, which never escaped his privy-search, when he thought of. His Family, who kept more Fasting-days in the Year than the Church her self had appointed, Supp'd that Night, in Imitation of the Master very so∣berly.

Mercator gets up the next Morning betimes, and gives the Slave Money, to go to the Market, while, he went about his Affairs in the City, with order to have Dinner ready

against his return. Corrina was at a loss how to compass her Design, finding things fell not out according to her Expectation: But still waiting the opportunity, she told her Enter∣tainers that she was extreamly troubled at her Uncle's stay (so she call'd Vasquez) and that all her sadness proceeded thence. The Gar∣dener's Wife, who was a good hearty Wo∣man, found her all the Diversion she could.

Mercator comes home at Noon, with an Intention to Dine in his Garden, and before he sate down, he would needs take a turn a∣bout it, to see if any thing were wanting; and he observed that there wanted some pie∣ces of Wood for the more convenient wa∣tering of the several knots. As he was go∣ing to the Gardeners to see if he had any fit for that purpose, the Wife perceiving him coming, very hastily shuffled Corrina into a little back Room, where she was wont to lie: But in regard it could not be done so sud∣denly, but that Mercator coming in might hear the ruffling of the Silks, and see Corri∣na's shadow, he steps into the Room where she was retired, and having found her, he led her out by the Hand and bringing her out to the Light, he found her so Beautiful, that he was astonished thereat. The Garde∣ner's Wife wondred, that her Master, instead of chiding her, as she expected, only asked

her who the Lady was; she answer'd, that the Night before, passing by their door with an Ancient Gentleman, who seem'd as sad as her self, they had very earnestly intreated she might be lodged there but that Night, to avoid a great Misfortune, which would have happen'd to them, if they had gone any further.

While the Gardener's Wife was giving Mer∣cator this account, he very attentively consi∣der'd the strange Lady, who seem'd to be ex∣treamly troubled in mind, which added to the attractions of her Beauty. Mercator was so taken with her, that discharging his unsociable and Covetous Humor, he told the Gardener's Wife that she had done very well, in entertaining that Lady, though contrary to his Orders, which in such a Case were not to be obser∣ved, where Compassion and Charity plead for the relief of those that are in Trouble. This Lady, (said he) deserves a better re∣ception than she hath sound in your poor Lodgings, I heartily proffer her my House, if she will but honour it with her presence. Cor∣rina thank'd him very civilly for his obliging proffers, and entreated him to allow her the privacy of some other Lodging, for the lit∣tle time she had to stay there, in regard she expected an Vncle of hers to come and fetch her away that Night.

Mercator, who began to be enflam'd, was sorry to hear that her stay at his House would be so short, but after a little pause, he told her, that though it were but for an hour, she would infinitely oblige him, in the accepta∣tion of the proffer he made her with so much Affection. She, who expected that lue all the while, told him, that, to make some re∣turn to so great Civilities, she was ready to wait on him: with that she went to Merca∣tor's Apartment, whither he led her by the Hand, to the great satisfaction of the Garde∣ner's Wife, who extremely wondred to see her Master, contrary to his Custom, of a Ci∣vil and Obliging Humor; as she pass'd through the Rooms, she took particular notice of all things; for though Mercator, were Natural∣ly a very covetous Person; yet, as to the Furniture of his House, he was otherwise, he had very rich Tapstry, Chairs suitable thereto, and Cabinets of Ivory, and Ebony; nay indeed many things brought out of the Indies, which though they cost him not much there, are here of very great price, he immediately commanded his Slave to pre∣pare an excellent Dinner, an Employment he undertook with great alacrity, as know∣ing he might reap some advantage of that ex∣traordinary Liberality of his Master. Corri∣na din'd with him, who treated her still with

the best the Table afforded, with importu∣nate Excuses that there were no better for her.

As soon as they had din'd, he conducted her into a Chamber, set forth with a great number of curious Pictures, and also a sump∣tuous Bed of China-Work, where he entrea∣ted her to repose her self on it, a Custom the Spaniards have in Summer, as soon as they have dined, by reason of the Sultriness of the Country. He entreated her also to give her disquiet some Remission, out of an Assurance; that she should be as safe in his House as in any Sanctuary, and that she should not want any thing which lay in his Power. She again return'd him her most affectionate thanks, and complying with his Desires, she staid a∣lone in the Room, which was the same where Mercator took his repose every day. He went into another, where he laid himself down, much troubled and disquieted, as being fallen deeply in Love with his fair Guest, and not knowing by what means he might in∣duce her to favour him in what he desired of her, which if he could effect, he concluded himself the happiest Man in the World. Be∣fore he acquainted her with his Design, he was Desirous to know the Cause, and what might occasion her stopping at his Garden, and thereby find whether there were any

Obstruction that might oppose his Desires to serve her. To be satisfied in this, it was re∣quisite he staid till she awoke; but she slept not at all, for she spent the time in consider∣ing, what answer she should make him, when he came to question her.

Mercator thinking it now high time to speak to her, in order to the Satisfaction of his Cu∣riosity, goes into her Chamber, telling her it was a close day, and that he was afraid she might over-sleep her self, and craving her Pardon that he had taken the Boldness to give her that Caution. She thanked him for the Tenderness he had for her Health, and assured him, that she had not refreshed her self at all, the trouble she was in not permit∣ting her to take any rest. He begg'd of her that she would no longer smother the Cause of her Disquiet, and renewed the proffers he had made to serve her to the utmost of his Power. Having return'd him her thanks, and thinking it now time to make some Progress in her Design, she gave him this Relation of her Adventures.

Granada, one of the most Famous and E∣minent Cities of Spain, is the place of my Birth; my Parents (there's no Necessity I should Name them) are of the most Ancient and most Noble Families of any in all the Mountains of old Casteel, and the whole Issue

of their Matrimony was only a Brother of mine and my self. My Brother spent the Youthful part of his Age in Courting Ladies, and, among other young Persons like him∣self, he plaid some mad pranks of Youth, which obliged him, for fear of falling into the Hands of Justice, to absent himself from Granada; and for my part, I made it my on∣ly Business to serve and humour those who had brought me into the World. I spent whole days at my Needle, not taking Exam∣ple from my Companions, who only minded their Divertisements; nay, I was so Ignorant what love meant, that I laughed at what ever related thereto, and thought those, who spent their time in Courtships and entertaining those they call'd their Gallants, little better than so many distracted Persons.

But love it seems would punish this con∣tempt of mine, and you shall see how he did it. My Father and Mother being one day gone to visit a Friend of theirs in the Coun∣try, who had buried his Wife not long be∣fore, I heard in the Street the clashing of Swords, as if some People had been fighting; and looked out at the Window to see what might be the matter. I had never been guilty of such a Curiosity before, and had it been Heaven's Pleasure I might have shunned it then, I should not now be telling you my

Misfortunes, which are such, that I shall ne∣ver think on them without Tears. I there saw, to my sorrow, three Men with their Swords drawn, fighting against one, who de∣fended himself with so great Courage, that he not only made his party good along time against so many Enemies, but also hurt two of them in the Head, he himself having re∣ceived only a slight Wound. These three Hectors finding themselves so worsted by one Person, resolved to do their utmost to take away his Life; so that exasperated by their Wounds, they pressed upon him so much, that he was forc'd to retreat within our Gates where they gave him two several thrusts in∣to the Breast, upon which he fell, and was left for dead. Moved with Compassion to see so proper a young Man so disadvantage∣ously engaged, I came down to the Gate, calling my Maids about me, to see what might be done for him. (Our House being in a lone-Street) for those who were come upon the noise we made, were so few, and those unarmed, that they were not able to part them. We locked the Doors and brought him in, and a Chirurgeon was immediately sent for. His Wounds were so great, that we thought fit to dispose him into a Bed, in a Ground-Room, where my Brother was wont to lie.

The young Man hanked me very civilly for the Favour he received from me; but a∣lass! that good Office began with Compassion, but ended in Love. The Chirurgeon view∣ed his Wounds, but could not presently give any certain Judgment of them, though he whispered me in the Ear, that he thought they might cost him his Life. That account of him struck me to the Heart, for having seen him sight so gallantly, I must needs ac∣knowledge, that I had even then conceived an Inclination for him. But his kind Expres∣sion afterwards, and his thanking me so gen∣teelly for the Obligations he said I had put upon him, raised it into a perfect Love. My Father and Mother returned from their visit, and, ere they were got to our House, were told by one of the Neighbours, a Person of some Quality, what had happened in their Absence, and how that I had put a period to a Quarrel, by entertaining the wounded Party into their House, out of Compassion and a Fear that he might be killed; whereat they were well satisfied, and commended the Charitable Office I had done in such an Ex∣tremity; for they were Persons who gladly embraced any opportunity to Exercise their Charity. They visited the wounded, encou∣raged him to take Heart, assuring him he should want nothing, their House could af∣ford,

and acknowledg'd it well done by me, that I had so rescued him; upon which I took Occasion to spend most of my time in wait∣ing on him; him, I say, who is the Cause of all the Troubles and Afflictions which lie so heavy upon me. At the second dressing, the Chirurgeon assur'd us that his Wounds were not Mortal; which caused much Joy in our House, particularly to me, who became eve∣ry day more and more passionately in Love with him. As often as I could get out of my Father and Mother's sight, I went to pass away the time in his Chamber, for which Kindness he made me extraordinary Ac∣knowledgements.

This young Cavalier was Born at Barcelo∣na, and one of the most Eminent in that Ci∣ty. His Business at Granada was to prosecute a Law-Suit, against a very powerful Person, who finding but little Justice of his side, that the Cause was of great Importance, and that notwithstanding the Favour he had in Court, the Judges must pass Sentence against him, and would put a period to the Suit by a short∣er cut, and rid himself of his Adversary, by Employing three Men to Murther him, who were his own menial Servants. A Month slipped away, •…•…ere Calphorus (so was the wounded Person named) got out of his Bed having all that time been attended with as

much Care as might be. The second day af∣ter his getting up, he had the opportunity to see me, for my Mother was gone abroad up∣on a visit, wherein I accompanied her not, because I had a greater mind to be alone with my young Gallant. He discovered himself to me so opportunely, and gave me such sensi∣ble Assurances of his Affection that it raised a no less, in me towards him, insomuch that there past mutual Promises of Fidelity be∣tween us. I knew nothing all this time that my Father was upon a treaty of Marriage be∣tween me and a Gentleman of Granada, who was infinitely Desirous to enter into our Al∣liance, while I was very well satisfied, with the choice I had made my self. Calphorus, coming to hear of the other's Pretensions to me, was not a little troubled at it; but the only remedy was Patience, in regard he would make no Discovery of his Estate, till his Law Suit were ended, which he hoped would be in a short time, and I in the mean time kept my Father in play with Perswasions, that he would not be over-hasty in conclu∣ding my Marriage with the Granadine.

Calphorus, being perfectly cured, and re∣quiting the Kindness and Noble Entertain∣ment he had receiv'd at our House, with ma∣ny considerable presents, returned to his own quarters, to bring his Business to a final end.

For my part, my Troubles increased more and more upon me; for my Father, never giving me any notice of it, as if I had been a Person not at all concern'd, concluded the Contract with the Granadine, and passed his Word he should have me; which when I came to understand, I was so surpriz'd, that I minded not what I did. This new Servant of mine, who expected ere long to be my Master came to give me a visit: But I soon sa∣tisfied him, that he had reckoned without his Hostess, for whereas he had flattered himself into a foolish Imagination that he should have found the kindest Reception in the World from me, he met with such a Repulse, as he himself concluded, must rather proceed from the Aversion, then any Indifference I had for him. In a word, being not one of Fortunes Favourites, who promise themselves the At∣tainment of things impossible, he easily dis∣covered, that my Refusal was the effect of some other Cause, than the Modesty, which a young Maid ought at least to pretend, up∣on such Occasions: and knowing withal that the wounded Calphorus had lodged sometime in our House, he presum'd, that my disdain towards him was occasion'd by the Love I had for the other, and thence inferred, that hav∣ing not been so happy as to prevent him in the Acquisition of my Favour, he had, at best,

but a hazardous after-game to recover it. The Jealousie he conceived upon this Pre∣sumption, oblig'd him to make tryal of all the ways he could imagine, to be assured of it, so as that he might not do any thing, that should cause him afterwards to repent of.

I was in an extraordinary Confusion du∣ring these overtures; I acquainted Calphorus with my Condition; he came to see me that very Night, and we agreed, the next, to leave my Father's House, and to go to some of his Relations, where we might be secretly Married. The expected hour being come (unhappy hour to me, considering the Mis∣fortunes I have run through since!) as my Dearest and I were going out of the House and crossing into another Street, my Jealous Servant (who spent the Nights to be assured of his Suspicion, which he now found to be too true) presently knew us, and, attended by two Servants, he set upon Calphorus, who never thought of any such surprize; so that ere he had the time to draw his Sword, he received three Mortal Wounds, and fell down dead, without uttering one Word. The lit∣tle noise which the Murtherers had made, oc∣casion'd the Neighbours to come out with Lights, upon the appearance whereof they ran away, fearing they might be discovered.

By this time there was a great uproar at my Father's, that I could not be found, while I was in a manner dead, to see my Dearest ly∣ing Breathless at my Feet. Having recover∣ed my self, I considered it was to little Pur∣pose for me to stay in the Street, after such an Accident, so that gathering up my Cloths, I hasted away as fast as I could, to a Friend's House of my Father's, an aged Person and very Poor, to whom I told what had happen∣ed to me, and how much it concern'd me not to stay any longer at Granada. Where∣upon taking a Horse, he set me on him, and brought me to the next Village, where we took up another for him, and thence we are come hither, to avoid my Father, who ac∣companied by Officers, makes a search after me, as I have understood by the way. For that Reason I thought it not safe, that we should go into Sevil as soon as we came hi∣ther, but that it was better I concealed my self in some place near it. It was the Plea∣sure of Fortune to direct me to this Habitati∣on of yours, into which, upon extraordina∣ry intreaties your Gardener ventur'd to re∣ceive me for this last Night.

Thus Sir, have you the story of a wretch∣ed Maid, (if there were ever any such) whose only Comfort now is in the good Enter∣tainment you are pleased to afford her. May

Heaven requite your Charity, since there cannot be a greater than to relieve such as are afflicted and persecuted to that extremity as I am.

The Conclusion of this dismal story, which Corrina had had the time to invent and stu∣dy so well, was a showr of Crocodile-Tears, which raised such a Compassion in Mercator, that he could not forbear them himself. The cunning Gipsie, who notwithstanding her Counterfeit-Tears, observed all the Actions of Mercator, perceived that he gave Credit to her feign'd story, and that love began to enter at that breach which Compassion had made in his Heart. This encouraged Corrina to prosecute her Impostour, being now in a manner Confident to bring it to some effect. They continued a good while together, she weeping as if she had done it for a Wager, and he endeavouring all that he could do to Comfort her: but that Comfort came not up to the height of offering her the Remedy she could have wished, for he had not yet over∣come his Covetous Humor.

Having with great Attention considered the great Beauty of Corrina, her Affliction, and strange Adventures, and that his Happiness was as it were fallen into his Mouth, he in∣ferred that Heaven, as a signal Addition to his former Happiness, had directed her to his

House. This was the first Love that had e∣ver moved Mercator's Heart, and, in all sorts of Persons that first Passion ever acts violent∣ly. Is Mercator fallen in Love? He must needs then be Liberal. Hath he entertained Corrina into his House? That Kindness will be the dearest to him that ever he expressed. O Love! O insinuating Passion, who dost bewitch the World, who dost ruin and be∣set Men! what Metamorphoses in them dost thou not Operate? What Dispositions dost thou not change? What Resolutions dost thou not dispence with? What Felicities dost thou not disturb? And what Hearts is it not in thy power to soften? That of this insatiable Miser, which had cast off all sense of Humanity towards his nearest Relations, Love hath changed; so that he hath trans∣form'd a Covetous and Sordid Person into a Liberal and Magnificent. He is extreamly taken with Corrina; he is passionately in Love with her; she will ere long be Mistress of his Heart and Wealth. She said many things in her Relation, which might have betrayed her, had not the Affection, wherewith Mercator hearkened to her, closed both his Eyes and Ears: Nay, he was so prepossessed with his Passion that he would have believed many other things from her, though they had been more improbable than they were.

The effect of this sad Narration of Corri∣na, was, that Mercator proffer'd her all the Favour and Assistance she could expect from him, his Estate, Life, Heart and Soul, giv∣ing her the Title of Absolute Mistress of all he was possess'd of, further entreating her, of all Love to give over thinking of her Misfor∣tunes, and assure her self that she was in a House where she might command, and that whatever she desir'd, her orders should be obey'd, as far as it lay in his Power; Corri∣na very kindly thank'd him for so many ge∣nerous proffers, concluding her Complement with a fresh shower of Tears, a kind of Tempest she could raise, when-ever she ei∣ther pleas'd, or had occasion.

With this Artifice, she became Mistress of Mercator, and all he had, so as that she might dispose of him and it, as she pleas'd; her Beauty had given him a kind of Itch, and he was mighty desirous to try whether she would be as willing to Cure him of it; but he knew not well how to acquaint her with his indisposition; he resolved at last, in case he could do no good upon her by his sub∣missions and presents, to use the last Reme∣dy, which was to Marry her. This is a bait that many times takes the shiest of that delud∣ed Sex; but when they are so taken, he that does it is commonly snapp'd himself; for Cor∣rina

had no other design than to examine the Chests of the greedy Merchant, and that she would not be any way engag'd till she were secure of her prize; for she had heard that many of her calling had been shown slippery Tricks, which made her extremely Distrustful.

Mercator staid all that day in his Garden, and neglected his business in the City; but the next Morning betimes, leaving his guest asleep, he takes his Mule, and goes about his Ordinary occasions, having charg'd the Gardener's Wife, to get a good Breakfast for the Lady, as soon as she were awake, and to have a care of the House; he lock'd the Chamber Door where his Money was, and as he went out, charg'd the Gardener not to suffer any to come into his Garden, but the Old man who had brought Artemiza thither, for that was the name the dissembling Corri∣na went by.

That done he went about his Business, at∣tended by the little Negro, whom he gave Money to Buy Provisions for a good Din∣ner. Corrina got up and the Gardeners Wife punctually obey'd the Orders she had receiv∣ed from her Master, treating her the best she could, out of this respect, that all the Do∣mesticks made their advantage of those magni∣ficences. Corrina comes down into the Garden

where she took occasion to commend the Walks, and contrivances of it; for the Gar∣dener kept it in very good order, and well supply'd with Herbs, Fruits, and Flowers; finding the Sun beginning to grow hot, she went into the House, where casually meet∣ing with a Lute, on which Mercator's Factor was wont to play, she set it in Tune, and made her entertainment, till such time as Mercator return'd from the City, who hear∣ing her at it, was not a little glad to find that perfection in her more than he knew be∣fore; perceiving that Mercator hearkned to her Musick, she joyned her Voice to the In∣strument, to breed one Maggot more in his Brain than he had already; and so Sung these following Stanza's.

While on those lovely looks I gaze, To see a Wretch pursuing; In Raptures of a blest amaze, And pleasing Happy ruin.

'Tis not for pity that I move, His Fate is too aspering; Whose Heart, broke with a Load of Love, Dyes, Wishing and Admiring.

But if this Murder you'd forego, Your Slave from Death removing;

Let me your Art of Charming know, Or learn you mine of Loving.

But whether Life or Death betide, In Love, 'tis equal Measure; The Victor Lives with empty Pride, The Vanquish'd dye with Pleasure.

She Sung so excellently, that Mercator was ravish'd at the Melody, and acknowledg'd that it was not a voice of a Mortal Creature, but an Angel come down from Heaven; he continu'd his attention a while, imagining she would have begun another Song; but perceiving she laid by the Lute, he comes in∣to the Room, and, transported with joy, how hath this poor Habitation been felici∣fy'd, (said he to her) by your retirement in∣to it, most adorable Artemiza? What hap∣piness did the Hour of your Arrival here, bring me, who never had known any be∣fore? What Honor have I received in be∣holding your transcendent Beauty, and to obscure in you from time to time, a thousand unknown excellencies; which are not disco∣ver'd at the first sight? This house may, no doubt, enter into Competition with Heaven it self, since such an Angel Honors it with her divine presence; what I say, Madam, is but little, in Comparison of the passion I

have for your worth, which were it to be •…•…ommended proportionably to the appre∣•…•…ension I have of it, I think the most Elo∣•…•…uent Persons that ever were, would be at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 loss for expressions suitable to so adorable a •…•…ubject.

You press too hard upon me, Dear Sir, (re∣•…•…lies the Counterfeit Artemiza, seeming to •…•…lush at those excessive praises) I am not such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stranger to my self, but that I know it ar∣•…•…ues excess in the highest degree to bestow •…•…uch extraordinary Commendations, on a •…•…erson that deserves so little; had I mistrust∣•…•…d your being within hearing, I would have •…•…ut off my diversion to another time, since •…•…tis not unlikely my voice may seem harsh to you, compar'd to the excellent ones of this City, which you often hear, unless it be, that generous Natures have an inclination to fa∣vour Persons of mean parts, by flattering them by their praises, into an Imagination, that their Edowments are greater than indeed they are. No more Complements, I beseech you, (replies Mercator, rais'd up to the highest pitch of •…•…esotted Love,) my words come short of my Faith, and I am to assure you withal, Ma∣dam, that though I have heard excellent voices in Sevil, (for I must confess there are some such) yet yours is infinitely beyond any of them. Your most humble Servant, Sir,

(says Corrina) your Commendations, are in∣finitely beyond my deserts, and the Honor you do me can do no less then raise in me a hearty wish that my poor abilities might find you some further diversion with this Instru∣ment, since you are pleas'd to acknowledge your self so much satisfied therewith; but my troubles are so great and pressing, that in what I did, I mended only my own. I must see them at an end, ere you leave this House, (says Mercator to her) and therefore let me intreat you, if you cannot conclude an absolute peace with your afflictions, at least Condescend to a short cessation of Arms.

These reiterations of your Favours must needs extremely oblige me, (replies Corrina) and consequently force me to a grateful com∣pliance with your Commands, as far as lies in my Power, but I cannot promise it you so fully as I wish, finding the Person who brought me hither, hath forgotten he did it, otherwise he would have found some means to have given me a visit once in three days; let not that create you any trouble, (replies the Amorous Miser) but rather imagin there may be some Cause for his neglect. I have some apprehensions, (said she) that he may be return'd to Granada, out of a fear, that, being miss'd there, he might be question'd as a Complice of my Escape; and this would

prove the greatest of my misfortunes, for if he be gone, he hath carried all I had along with him. Never fear it, (says Mercator) for he must have more Compassion than to for∣sake you in so great an extremity; but though he and all else fail you, assure your self, I shall not, whereof I cannot give you a greater assurance, than you may derive from this sincere protestation, of my being so passionately your Servant, that I imagine not my self to be the same Person I was before I saw you; this transformation is wholly to be attributed to your Divinity, and thence you may inferr the influence you have o∣ver me.

Having so said, Mercator made an abso∣lute discovery of his Love; the cunning Gip∣sie pretending she understood not his mean∣ing, return'd civil answers to the proffers he made her, acknowledging her self extreme∣ly oblig'd to him for his kindness, and that she doubted not of the performance of what he was pleas'd, out of his own good Nature to promise. By this time Dinner was set on the Table; they both sat down, and the en∣tertainment was very noble, suitable to the Love of the Founder; for where that little Deity comes once to reign, the first Act he makes, is for the banishment of all baseness and avarice.

Corrina and Vasquez had agreed together, that he should come to her, when he were sure the Old Merchant was abroad, and that he should disguise himself like a Beggar, that he might not be known, nor any suspicion be conceiv'd of him; she had studied seve∣ral ways to chouse the Miser of some part of his Treasure, but could not fix on any one she thought might prove effectual, the Cham∣ber where it was lock'd being extremely for∣tify'd; she had continu'd there 3 days ere she had either seen or heard from Vasquez, and during the time, she express'd so great a dis∣content, as put Mercator to much trouble, in regard it kept him from making those free discoveries of his Love, which he would o∣therwise have done; in the mean time Corri∣na, who watch'd all occasions, cunningly dis∣cover'd the place where the old Man hid the Keys of his Iron-Chests.

Mercator went, according to his Custom, into the City, which being observ'd by Vas∣quez, he comes to his House in Beggars weeds, as they had agreed together, with two Crut∣ches; being got under the Window, at which Corrina was looking out, he Begg'd an Alms of her; she threw him down something, and ask'd him whence he came, whereto Vas∣quez answering that he was of Granada, she seem'd to be extremely glad, and thereupon

turning to the Gardeners Wife, let us go down a little into the Garden, (said she to her) this poor fellow is come out of my Country, I would fain have some discourse with him, to know what News he hath brought thence; the poor Woman suspect∣ing nothing, made no difficulty to let him in∣to the Garden. Corrina ask'd him how long it was since he had left Granada, whereto he answering about nine or ten days, she continued her questions so long, that the Gar∣dener's Wife weary of their discourse, and having something else to do, left them. Be∣ing rid of her, they consider'd what was to be put in execution the Night following, and agreed upon the course they were to take, to possess themselves of Mercator's Treasure.

That done, Vasquez departed, and Corrina went up to her Chamber, telling the Gar∣dener's Wife, she had understood so much from that poor Fellow, concerning her Af∣fairs, that it would not be long ere she re∣turn'd into her Country. The Gardener's Wife, and Maid were little pleas'd to hear that News, as fearing their Master would, upon her departure, re-assume his niggardly Humor, and keep as miserable a House as he had done before, nay perhaps put himself and all the Servants to a greater pennance in

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their Diet, to get up what had been squan∣der'd away, during her aboad there.

Mercator being come home found Corrina that Night more cheerful than at any time before; which gave him the Confidence to acquaint her more freely with his Love then he had done, and to assure her of the disquiet he was in upon her Account. Corrina seem∣ed not to take it amiss, nay by a greater Fa∣miliarity than she had express'd towards him before, she raised in him some hopes of see∣ing his desires satisfied. Whence the Old Dotard began to presume, that the Fort would in a short time be taken, upon reason∣able terms; upon this presumption, he be∣stow'd on her a Ring, which he had purpose∣ly bought for her, wherein was a Diamond worth about an Hundred Crowns, set about with little Rubies; the Lady gave him many thanks for so noble a present, and in requi∣tal promis'd him a Lesson on the Lute, to which she Sung some new Aires, though she quarrell'd at the dulness of the Instrument. Mercator promis'd her a better the next day; they parted for that time, but with differ∣rent thoughts, Mercator desirous to obtain those Favours he expected from Corrina, and to oblige her thereto by presents, which o∣vercome the greatest difficulties; and Corri∣na contriving how to compass the Robbery she intended.

The next day, Vasquez (a Person of great experience in such designs) got some others of the same profession to carry on the Work; and having observ'd Mercator going into his House, they staid till he were gone to Bed, which was somewhat late; for Corrina, who held a Correspondence with them, had pur∣posely kept him up. About midnight, Vas∣quez and his Comrades brought a thing that had the Figure of a Man, stuff'd with Straw, having about him a Cloak, which cast over his Shoulder, cover'd his Face, and pitch'd o∣ver against the principal Window towards the Garden, which was that part of the House where Mercator Lodg'd, and left it there fast∣ned to a S•…•…ake they had thrust into the Ground. The Night was somewhat dark, and so more proper for their Design. Having plac'd that Figure, as I told you, they knock'd at the Door so loud that it might have been heard from one end of the Garden to the other. Mercator awaken'd thereby leaps out of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Bed, it being so strange to him to hear such knocking at his Garden Door, at such an unseasonable time, as being a thing had ne∣ver happen'd to him before; he called up his Servant and bid him see who knock'd at the Door; the Servant went out between sleep∣ing and waking to see what the matter was, calling as loud as he could, who knocks there?

but no Body answering, and he not mind∣ing the Figure that stood in the Garden, told his Master that there was not any body.

Mercator upon that got into Bed again and compos'd himself to rest, but it was soon Interrupted, for Vasquez knock'd more vio∣lently then he had done before, which asto∣nish'd him the more, and oblig'd him to send down his Man a second time, to see what the matter was. Bringing his Master the same Account he had done before, he got up him∣self, puts his Cloak about him, and calls at the Window, Who knocks at my Door thus unseasonably? Where to no answer being made, he grew the more enrag'd, but look∣ing a little more earnestly about the House than his man had done, he perceiv'd the Fi∣gure planted before his Windows. Mercator was extremely affraid, at the sight of a Per∣son, who, as he thought, knockt at his door, yet made him no answer, and assuming more, Courage than he was naturally Master of, he said to him very loud: 'Tis basely done of you, Sir, to abuse me thus, you shall find I am not a person to suffer it; pray keep on your way, and disturb not my rest any more if you think not you'r invulnerable, and that a brace of good Bullets will make no impressi∣on in your enchanted Skin.

Having made that bravado, he shut to the Window and went to Bed; but he was hard∣ly got warm in it, ere they began to knock more violently than they had done before; which obliged him to take a Fire-Lock, which he always kept ready charged for the secu∣rity of his Money. Opening the Window, he found him still in the same posture, who would not have stirred out of it, had he not been forc'd out of it by some other means. What obstinacy of Impudence is it in you (said he to him, very much incensed) to Authorize a Mischief, you are nothing the better for, in thus disturbing my Rest? 'Tis impardonable, and deserves an Exemplary Chastisement; be gone immediately from my Door, or I shall send you going the next way. Whereupon, cocking the Fire-Lock, and aiming at him, and the other never stir∣ring, as it were out of a Presumption, that he believing he had not any Fire-Arms, whereby he might make good his Threats, he gave him notice the third time, that he would not oblige him to offer a Violence which he was very unwilling to do. At last perceiving he minded not any thing, he said, but as it were defi'd him, he resolv'd to give Fire, not only to fright him, but if he could, to hurt him. He discharged off his Piece and shot the Figure, which fell to the Ground;

upon which Vasquez, who was not far off, cries out with a doleful tone, O God I am killed, and immediately he and his Comrades made a great noise at the sight of a Man so un∣fortunately Murthered.

Mercator was extreamly troubled at what he had done, it being observed, that Cove∣tous Persons are for the most part Cowardly, and very much fear whatever may Occasion their Losses. He shut the Window, and in a great fright awaking Corrina (who had grea∣ter things to mind than Sleeping) told her what he had done. She seemed to be ex∣treamly troubled at it, and much blamed him, that he had executed so cruel a Resolution. For since he knew himself to be safe enough in his own House, he might have suffered them to knock at his Door, till they had been weary; that he had better have indured that Noise, and lost a little of his Rest, than be in the Trouble he was in, to be the Occa∣sion of a Man's Death. She added several o∣ther Reasons, which so confounded poor Mercator, that he knew not what to do. She advised him for his safety, to go immediate∣ly and take Refuge in the Monastery of St. Bernard, it being certain, that if the Dead Person were found there the next Morning, he would be carried to Prison, as being Mur∣thered so near his House.

Mercator was so perplexed, that he wished he had never been born; and it is to be i∣magined, that if Corrina had not been very highly concerned to Dissemble upon this Oc∣casion, she would have dyed with laughing. He raised up all his People, and told them what had happened, and all blam'd him, for his being so forward to commit such an Acti∣on, which made the poor old Dotard almost mad. He imagin'd himself already apprehen∣ded, his Money carried away, and but a small matter between him and Hanging, at least if he were obliged by Tortures to Acknowledge his Crime, never considering that it was par∣donable for one Man to kill another in his own Defence. At last he resolv'd to go to Saint Bernard's Monastery; but knew not how to dispose of his Money. He thought it no Prudence to leave it at the Discretion of his Servants; to carry it to a Friend's House (in case he had any, for Persons of his Hu∣mor have very few) he had not time. In this Distraction he desired Corrina to advise him; she seeming very much troubled, and no less fearful than he, pretended she could not give him any; but after a little pause she gave him that Advice, which she had prepa∣red long before, and he followed it. She as∣ked him what Money he might have in the House? He ingeniously confessed that he

had about four thousand Crowns in Gold, and somewhat better than half the said Summ in Silver.

I tell you what I would do, were I in your Case, (says the cunning Gipsie) (since it cannot be carried to a Friend's House without being seen) I would bury it in the Garden, in some place, where you may afterwards find it, by some mark you shall set to that purpose. This you must do your self, so as that your very Servants may not know any thing of it, lest they be tempted to prove false to you; for the times are such now, that a Man must have a Care whom he trusts. I would assist you herein, and keep your Counsel, were it not that I am afraid, when the search comes to be made, and I be left here, I shall be the first taken; and I would be loth to run my self into that hazard, ha∣ving but just escaped those I have acquainted you with. In the midst of his Affliction, Mercator was troubled to perceive by his Guest's Discourse, the Disturbance she was in upon his Account; and what struck him most to the Heart, was, that he saw himself upon the point of losing her. This Consi∣deration forced from him not only Tears, but also bitter Exclamations, against the Malici∣ous Crossness of his Fortune. Corrina desi∣red him to be of good Courage, perswading

him to do as she advised him, and hope the best. So that having commanded all his Ser∣vants to go to their several Chambers, and not to stir thence, he and Corrina, whom on∣ly he durst trust, went to the place where the Money was. It lay in a huge Chest, cover'd all over with Iron-Bars, and the Keys were so extraordinary, that it was impossible to Counterfeit them, or to get a piece thence by any other wile than what was invented by our subtle Ferret.

They first took out all the Silver, and then put the Gold into a little Box, and, having brought all into the Garden, they made two holes, at some distance one from the other, in one whereof they put the Silver, and in the other the Gold, setting a mark that they might find the place again. Mercator took along with him two hundred Crowns in Gold, and gave Corrina fifty, to shift for her self, till the Business were over.

That done, they went up into the House, whence they might see several Persons walk∣ing with a Light; 'twas Vasquez and his Com∣rades, who represented the Magistrate, which Corrina shewing him, advised him to make all the hast he could to Saint Bernard's. To do that, they got over the Garden-Wall, as be∣ing afraid to open the Door, for they percei∣ved the Actors of this Comedy kept a Watch

there, with such Authority, as if they had been really the Officers of Justice. All Mer∣cator's Family followed him over the Wall, fearing they might come into Trouble for their Master's Fault. Mercator and his Mi∣stress lurk'd somewhere there abouts, till it was day, that they might have the Church-Door open, to get into the Monastery. Vas∣quez was hard by, to see what became of Mer∣cator, and his People. Finding he had left his House, and got into the Monastery with Corrina, he went about an hour after Sun∣rising to Saint Bernard's in the Habit of a Secular Priest, that he might the better speak to Corrina. She told him how things stood, and how they had buried the Money in the Garden, and that it was all in Silver, intend∣ing to reserve all the Gold for her self.

About Mid-night, Vasquez and one of his Comrades went along with Corrina, disgui∣zed in Man's Cloths to the Garden. They helped her over first, to go and see whether there might be any Body in the House, but all were vanished as if the House had been visited. She thereupon called Vasquez and his Companions, and, having taken up the Money, they carried it away, and took up their Quarters at one of the farthest Inns of the Suburbs. Having been merry a while, and drunk their own Healths, and to the

good Success of their future Designs, they went all to Bed, the two Men together, and Corrina by her self. As soon as she found they were asleep, she puts on the same Habit, and returns to the Garden. Where, being come, she took up the little Box of Gold, and, with∣out any disaster, got safe to the Inn before her Companions awaked.

The next day, having divided the Silver, whereof she and Vasquez had the best part, and sowed up the Gold in her Cloths, she left Sevil, taking Vasquez along with her, who, finding what Advantages he might make of her Company, resolved to run Fortunes with her. They took their way towards Ma∣drid, to which place they will not be long a going, and now let us see what is become of Mercator, whom we lest in Saint Bernard's Monastery.

Having continued there four days after Corrina's departure from him, he knew not what to think of her that she came not again, as she had promised. He addressed himself to one of the Monks, who had great Ac∣quaintances in the City, and intreated him to inquire, what Proceedings there might be a∣gainst him, upon the Murther he had com∣mitted. The Religious Man promised him an account of it; but having enquired at those places where he thought he might most

probably hear, but no body could give him any Satisfaction. He thereupon told Merca∣tor, that he might safely go abroad, and needed not to fear any thing. He went out one Night to a Friends of his, whom he ac∣quainted with all that had past, as also the great perplexity he was in, desiring him to make a more particular enquiry into the Bu∣siness, than he thought the Religious Man had done. He did so, and gave him the same Account as the other. Yet would not that satisfie him, but he must Desire his Friend to go to his House, whereof he gave him the Mistriss-Key. At his Request he went, and found it without any Body in it, and his Mule being Dead for want of Meat, and Attendance. His Friend returned to him with this News, and advised him to come out of the Monastery, and go home, and thence a∣bout the City, as he was wont to do.

The Death of his Mule troubled him not much, so glad was he to find himself once more at Liberty: The only thing gave him any Disquiet, was, that his Artemiza (under which Name Corrina went) came not to see him. But he imagined the Occasion of it might be, that being a young Maid, she had sheltered her self somewhere, to keep out of the hands of Justice, or that perhaps she might have been met with by her Father, who,

as she had told him, sought after her. He went to his House, whither, soon after, came the Gardener and his Wife, and his other Ser∣vants. He goes into the Garden, and, not∣withstanding all the Fear and Distraction he had been in, remembred the place where he had hid his Money, and was not a little glad to find the Mark where he had set it; so that before he went to Bed, he resolved to secure his Treasure in its former Garrison. As soon as it was dark, he takes the Gardener with him, and a Lanthorn and Candle, and goes first to the place, where the Silver was, and bids him digg. He did so, but there was no∣thing to be found, whereat, Mercator was ex∣treamly surprized. He went thence to the place where they had laid the Gold, and there they found as little, only Corrina knew what was become of all. He walked several turns about the Garden, with much Vexation, i∣magining the marks might be misplaced; but what in looking after the marks, and what in digging, the Night slipped away, so that at last dispairing to find any thing that Night, he behaved himself like a Person distracted. The Gardener knew not what he looked for, nor for what Reason he had brought him thi∣ther. The poor Man resolved to have a lit∣tle Patience till the next Morning, being still in some hopes to find what he had hidden.

He went to Bed, or rather to spend the Night in insufferrable Torments; but as soon as it began to dawn, he got up, and having called up the Gardener, they returned to the work they had been at the Night be∣fore. Having digged again at those places, where he was Confident he had laid the Mo∣ny, all they could find was, that there had been two holes made there before, and that Money or something else had been hidden there, but all was removed. This Assurance made him run stark mad, throwing himself on the Ground, running his Head against the Wall, and doing such things as raised a Com∣passion in his Servants, who thence concluded that he had lost his Money, and suspected the feign'd Artemiza, to have robb'd him, by the Orders he gave them to search after her all over the City. But she was far enough out of his reach, and had so well secured his Money, that it was not likely it would come into his Chests any more. He kept his Bed a good while, out of a pure Madness, that he had so soon lost, what had cost him many Years Trouble, and Pains to get together. The Robbery was soon divulg'd all over the City; some, who knew not his Humour, pi∣tied his Misfortune, but such as had Experi∣ence of his insatiable Avarice, were not a little pleased to find him so justly punished.